


Infinite Earths

by Doccutroll



Category: Lost Girl
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2017-12-10 19:45:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 31,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/789463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doccutroll/pseuds/Doccutroll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fae poisons Lauren, and the doctor's soul leaves her body and travels to other worlds. She's stuck until she recalls something about this universe, and Bo chases her from one reality to the next. </p><p>Based on the Challenge on Infinite Earths -- a “30-day challenge where you take your favorite ship (or character(s)!) and place them in various “what if” scenarios and alternate universes.”  </p><p>New chapter (Jan 22): mythical creature (Lauren Lewis is Death).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

“What the hell happened?!” Bo says as she bursts through the door. 

“We don’t know,” Trick replies as he places a cloth over Lauren’s forehead. “She was just sitting at the bar and collapsed after a beer.” 

Just then, Dyson walks in, holding the mug in his hand. “Trick, that’s not a normal beer,” he says and sniffs the beverage. “It’s been infused with amanitas muscaria, calea and asphaltum kava.” 

“Which makes it a…” Trick reaches for an old black tome on his desk and points at a picture. “Bo, have you seen this fae lately?” 

“Yeah I kicked her ass yesterday, why?” Bo asks. “Wait. Is she the one who poisoned Lauren?” 

“She’s not poisoned, Bo,” Dyson replies. “Those herbs, when combined, are sort of a…dream inducer.” 

“A _fae_ dream inducer,” Trick corrects. “It’s not in her head. Lauren’s soul has literally left her and travelled to other worlds.” 

“What other worlds?” Bo demands. “Where?” 

“Well, since there are hundreds of parallel universes there, she could be anywhere,” Trick says. 

“So she’s wandering in those places until she comes back?” Bo asks. 

“That’s the catch,” Trick wipes his brow. “That depends on how much of those herbs were in there. Also, she can travel from one universe to another, but if she doesn’t recall anything about this world, she could be…stuck.” 

“Stuck?” Bo exclaims. “That’s it. Dyson, Hale, you know where the fae lives, go find her and make her undo whatever this is, okay?” 

“We will,” the wolf shifter promises. “But aren’t you coming with us?” 

“I’m going to find Lauren,” Bo says as she grabs the leftover beer from Dyson’s hands and finishes it. 

“BO, NO!” the room erupts in shouts. 

She wants to tell them not to worry, but she’s already feeling so drowsy. She walks over to the bed and lies down beside Lauren, making sure to pull the sheet over the doctor. 

“You watch yourself,” she slurs to Kenzi as the human hovers over her. “And remember - if she’s not back, don’t wake me up.” 

Her head falls on to the pillow and she’s off. 


	2. Slice-of-life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Infinite Earths' with a doccubus twist. Prompt: Slice-of-life

“Well why won’t you come with me?” the woman asks as she slices her steak. 

“Nadia, you know I’d love to, but I have to work.” Lauren takes a sip of her wine. “Besides, you’ll have more fun going with the other photographers.” 

“I have the most fun with you,” Nadia smirks as she reaches across the table and runs a finger down Lauren’s jaw. 

“Hmm, stop,” Lauren smiles and leans back. The intimacy that used to come easily between the lovers has just about disappeared. Between emergencies, night shifts and off-location photoshoots, the time that they spend together usually revolves around a meal, a movie and a good dose of awkwardness. 

“Lauren,” Nadia sets her wine down. “This actually isn’t a one month assignment…I’ll be going for a year.” 

“A year in the Congo?” Lauren exclaims. 

“Yep,” Nadia reaches her Lauren’s hand. “Our president – the ‘Garuda’ – thinks there’s a big story about AIDS denialism there. There’s a tip that there are major politics involved with this issue.” 

“So it’s not just your average denialism then? Not your usual shaman saying that they could heal it with a ritual, or curse?” Lauren says with a wry smile. 

“Yeah,” Nadia says. “So…a year.” 

“A year,” Lauren echoes as she looks down. 

“I guess we should…look!” Nadia’s eyes grow wide as she looks up. 

“We should look up?” Lauren asks, confused. 

“No, look who it is!” Nadia whispers fervently. “The table at the far left – it’s her!” 

Her curiosity roused, Lauren turns discreetly and glances quickly at the table. “Hmm, it really is.” 

“I wonder if she’s with that guy who looks like Chris Martin,” Nadia says. 

“Nadia,” Lauren admonishes. “What’s come over you? It’s not like you to be so interested in these things.” 

Before Nadia has a chance to answer, they hear a thud as the brunette falls from her chair. In less than a second, the couple leave their table and rush towards the model. 

“Excuse me, I’m a doctor,” Lauren says as she kneels down. “Ma’am, are you alright? Can you tell me what’s wrong?” 

“Uh, I guess so, I’m just feeling a bit dizzy,” the woman answers. 

After a discussion with the restaurant manager, Lauren carries the woman into a private room with the help of Nadia and the lady’s friend. 

“I’m sorry, we don’t have to do this,” the brunette apologizes. “I think it’s just the heat.” 

“It’s okay, this will just take a couple of minutes, Ms McCorrigan,” Lauren reassures her. 

“So, you know who I am,” the woman smiles. 

“My uh, my friend – the one with me – is a photographer,” Lauren says. “I guess it’s also hard not to know who you are when the face of Ysabeau McCorrigan stares at you from a banner as you go to work everyday.” 

“Bo, please,” the woman corrects. “I’m off work, so I’m just plain ole’ Bo Dennis, a small town girl who just happened to get lucky.” 

“Okay then, Bo,” Lauren smiles as they shake hands. “Now, does your back hurt? You fell pretty hard.” 

“Um, a little bit,” Bo replies. “Maybe you could you take a look at it for me?” 

A strange feeling comes over the doctor as she runs her fingers down the model’s back. _It’s l_ _ike I’ve done this before._

“My God, you’re beautiful,” Lauren blurts out. “I meant that…professionally.” 

“I have that effect on people,” Bo replies with a sad smile and puts on her shirt. “Now for the million dollar question, what’s wrong with me and can you fix it?” 

“Well there’s nothing to fix because it’s just a slight sprain,” Lauren explains.” You’re a perfect biological specimen of your kind.” 

“Why doctor,” Bo smiles as she steps in front of Lauren. “Thanks for this – hey can I offer you a drink when we get out of here?” 

Lauren stares at her, as if she’s in a trance – 

“Bo?” A flicker of recognition appears in her eyes. 

“Lauren? Lauren!” Bo smiles and hugs Lauren tightly. 

The spell breaks. 


	3. Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Infinite Earths' with a doccubus twist. Prompt: Hogwarts

“Hey, are you ready to leave?” Harry says, putting his suitcase beside Ron’s desk. 

“Yeah, just waiting for the ladies now. Hermione said something about showing Ginny her new office.” Ron rolls his eyes and sips from his cup of tea. 

“Are you jealous that she’s gotten a new office and you only have a desk?” Harry says. 

“Shut up, mate. You know as well as I do that an auror’s work is mostly done offsite! Who’s keeping the streets safe from the dark wizards?” 

Harry was about to reply when he saw Ginny and Hermione walking towards them. He gives Ginny a kiss on the cheek, “Hello darling.” 

“Hi Harry,” Hermione greets. “Shall we go?” 

“We’re still waiting for Bo,” Ron says. “Bo McCorrigan, the new auror that I was telling you about, remember?” he says as Hermione glances at him questioningly. 

“Oh, you mean _Isabeau_ McCorrigan. On first name terms now, are we?” Hermione’s sudden frosty expression reminds everyone of Mrs Weasley. “Anyway, why does she want to come to Hogwarts with us? Surely she isn’t interested in hearing Harry’s Defense Against the Dark Arts talk?” 

“She said she wanted to take a look at the school,” Harry says. 

“That’s probably why.” Hermione says with a smirk. “She probably went to some school for purebloods like Durmstrang.” 

“Hermione, just because you heard rumors about her grandfather being involved with Salazar Slythern’s plan to reject muggles from Hogwarts doesn’t mean it’s true,” Ron says. “How many rumors has Rita Skeeter created about you?” 

“You’re only saying that because you have a crush on _Bo_ ,” Hermione says. 

“Well, to be fair, her skills, while unorthodox, are really impressive,” Harry says. “Oh here she is.” 

“Hi all.” Bo walks up to the group and they greet her in kind before apparating to a spot close to the school grounds. 

“So, Iseabeau,” Hermione says as they walk up to the school. “What do you think of that new proposal on equality between wizards and muggles?” 

“Haven’t thought of it much.” Bo shrugs. “More power to the muggles, I guess.” 

“And your grandparents, parents, or family? What do they think?” Much to Ron’s chagrin, Hermione didn’t let up. 

“Dunno. I don’t keep in touch with my grandfather, I never knew my dad and I barely know my mom. She’s in St. Mungo’s for as long as I’ve known her.” 

“Oh…I’m sorry to hear that.” Hermione blushes and ignores Ron’s glare. 

“It’s alright.” Bo brushes it off. “I’ve got friends that are more than family.” 

Soon after, the group notices that Hermione’s attitude towards Bo is considerably warmer. 

_____________ 

After Harry’s talk, the group joins their children for dinner at the hall. 

“The potions teacher is still a nightmare,” James Potter complains. “She gives us scrolls after scrolls of homework, and she’s even stricter than Professor McGonagall.” 

“We like her,” Albus Potter and Rose Weasley chime in. “She always gives us cookies for doing well in her class.” 

“That’s probably why you like her,” James says darkly. “It ever occurred to you that those cookies contain some kind of love potion in them?” 

“James,” Ginny warns. “Potion’s always a difficult subject, and while not everyone has a knack for it, I’m sure you can make it up with hard work.” 

“Sure,” James grumbled. “Hey dad, who’s that lady who came in with you?” 

“Gosh, we forgot about Bo,” Ginny says and looks around the hall. “I don’t see her here, Harry. Do you know where she is?” 

“Dunno,” Harry says, distracted by his conversation with Albus. “She’s probably around. She always walks around on her own anyway, so let’s just leave her to it.” 

Meanwhile… 

“Will you please stop giving me the silent treatment?” Bo begs. “I’m going on a new mission with the others tomorrow, and I won’t get to see you for two weeks!” 

“Mission?” the potions mistress says as she calmly slices the mandrake root. “Why, more of those life and death situations again? You better go now, wouldn’t want you to keep you from doing something very important.” 

“Lauren, come on! I said I was sorry already!” Bo follows Lauren as she walks over to the cauldron and stirs in the ingredients. 

“For what, Bo?” Oh yes, what was it…all I do is look into cauldrons.” the chilly tone of the potions mistress makes Bo yearns for a good roaring fire. “Well, you were right, so here I am, looking into cauldrons.” 

“Lauren…” Bo let out a high pitch whine, her desperation going to new heights. 

“Bo, please,” Lauren holds up her hand. “I’m very busy, and while it might be just a stupid muggle thing, the Potions Association does have a deal with the muggles and I have to complete this on time. 

“Maybe you can go hang out with Dyson – I’m sure he’ll be very pleased to show you his authority. I hear that the students are fawning over their new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Some have even been brave enough to ask me for a love potion.” 

“I won’t see him. I’ll just go home.” Bo’s shoulders slumps in defeat. As she makes her way out of the dungeon, she points to a plate on Lauren’s desk. “I sneaked some food from the hall for you. I know how you get when you’re occupied, so I cast a miniature version of _Lumos Solem_ on it.” 

“Thanks,” the potions mistress says without looking up. 

“By the way, I’m really sorry for what I said,” Bo turns around and says. “I’d never think that your work is insignificant – your antidote saved Kenzi from that nasty poison, helped us defeat that lame eagle-like creature, and rescued that poor fairy who was shot in that crazy fairy stag hunt. Kingsley still speaks very highly of you for helping him solve the corruption case and freeing those innocent people from Azkaban. 

“And you’re amazing – you’re kind, giving and compassionate. I know people are still insulting you about being a muggle, but that never made any difference to how I feel about you since we were friends in school, and it never will,” She finishes and climbs up the stairs quietly. 

“Aren’t you going to eat with me?” Lauren calls out. 

Bo pauses and walks back to Lauren, her expression filled with hope. “Well, I did only bring one plate.” 

Lauren rolls her eyes and flicks her wand, turning the plate of food into two. “That’s what you get for not learning Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration properly.” 

“That’s because I was too busy kissing you,” Bo grins and chirps, wrapping her arms around Lauren’s back. “How could I resist? 

“I love it when you totally geek out…and I’m about to do something about it now,” she says as she moves her lips closer to Lauren’s. 

“Well, it’s about damn time.” Lauren stares back at her, until – 

“Bo?” A flicker of recognition appears in her eyes. 

The spell breaks. 


	4. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Infinite Earths' with a doccubus twist. Prompt: Family

“Momma, momma!” a blond child cried out as he rushed to greet Bo. 

“Hey Ethan!” Bo swept up her son, kissing him all over his face. 

“Momma, it tickles.” Ethan giggled. “What are you doing?” 

“Why, I’m preparing your lunch, of course,” Bo said and she set Ethan on the counter. “My children are going on a road trip to see their grandparents, and I can’t let my little man go hungry, can I?” 

“But momma, what about me?” A little hand tugged Bo’s pants. 

Bo bent down and scooped up the brunette, giving her the same greeting that she gave the girl’s fraternal twin. “Well, I’m not so sure about my little troublemaker,” she teased. “Have you stayed out of trouble for the hour that you’ve been awake?” 

The girl nod earnestly, eyes wide. 

“Well then, there’s lunch for you too.” Bo nuzzled her daughter’s nose. “Now sit here beside your brother and watch momma make the most amazing sandwiches ever!” 

“Yay!” the children cheered. Everyone knew that the kids prefer Bo’s sandwiches to Lauren’s, but only because Bo slathered the peanut butter and jelly generously or let them pick whatever they want, compared to Lauren’s method of carefully balancing the protein and vegetables with minimal dressing. 

“Now, when you get to your grandparents’ place, be polite,” Bo said, chopping and slicing. “Don’t run in the mansion, and don’t get your clothes dirty like you always do.” 

“Momma, can’t you come with us?” Ethan said. 

“Not this time, honey.” Bo planted a kiss on Ethan’s cheek and took out the Ziploc bags. “Momma has to work. Now you listen to your mommy. Don’t give her any trouble, okay?” 

“Yes momma.” 

Her wife walked into the kitchen just as Bo was almost done with the sandwiches. And like every time Lauren walked into a room, Bo couldn’t keep her eyes off her. 

“Mommy!” The children waved their hands and demanded hugs. 

“Mmm, good morning Ethan and Charlotte. I haven’t seen you for a while, so I’ll have to give you extra hugs.” 

“But mommy, you saw us when you put on our clothes just now,” Charlotte said, puzzled. 

“And that was twenty minutes ago, which was a veeryy long time.” Lauren said and walked over to Bo. They shared a kiss, quick and awkward. 

“Morning,” Bo muttered with a small smile. “All set?” 

“Yep,” Lauren replied as she pulled away and looked elsewhere. “Ooh, sandwiches. For the children?” 

Bo tried to put them into the bags before Lauren noticed the fillings, but Lauren’s quick glance at her told her that they would ‘talk about this later’. 

Over the years, what started out as cute turned into mild annoyance, and has now escalated into something that could start many a fight. Bo wanted to be sick whenever she contemplated the possibility of a divorce, and how their kids would have to choose which parent they want to live with, but she couldn't stop those thoughts. So Bo knew that while Lauren tolerated her spoiling their children in the past, it would be something that her wife was going to quickly stop, now that the stakes were high. 

“Okay kids!” Bo clapped her hands and lifted them from the counter. “It’s almost time to go, so why don’t you carry your bags into the car?” 

“Okay, momma”, the twins said as they went up the stairs. Bo knew instantly that she was going to miss the pitter-patter of her children’s feet while they were gone. She also knew that her wife was waiting behind her and took a deep breath before turning around, preparing herself for the fire. 

“Bo, you know not to spoil the children like that,” Lauren said, her arms crossed in front of her chest. “It’s bad for them.” 

Bo only nodded and looked down, the other - unsaid - reason hung heavily in the air between them. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to do that less. But I’m not doing it to get them to like me more…I just can’t help myself.” 

“It’s okay, I’m glad that you’re even considering what I said,” Lauren said. “Oh and…thank you for the car. The mechanics say mine should be done in a couple of days, so you should be back on your feet really soon.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I need to send mine into the garage soon as well – for some reason, when you go over 100 clicks, it starts to smell like gas –” 

“Maybe we should just catch a plane,” Her protective mode kicking in, Lauren tried to push the keys back into Bo's hands. 

“No, sorry. It’s uh…it’s okay, really. Be careful on the road and call me when you get there, okay?” 

“Mommy? Can you help me with this?” Charlotte called out from their bedroom. 

“Okay, one sec, sweetie,” Lauren said and turned back to Bo. “I’ll tell my parents you said hi.” 

“Sure, tell them that.” Bo resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “I’m sure they’ll be glad that I’m not around, bad influence to the kids and all.” 

“Bo.” Lauren sighed. “They don’t hate you. In fact, I don’t even know why you care what they think. You never let them get to you before.” 

“Well, that was before I knew that no matter how much you turn your back on those ‘old school’ rules, what your folks say does have an influence in our lives.” 

“But I never listen to them,” Lauren protested. “The reason we're visiting more often is we agreed that the kids should get to know their grandparents.” 

“Lauren, please.” Bo closed her eyes. “At this point, I think the least we could do is admit to ourselves that coming from completely different places _can_ cause a rift in a relationship. Not at first, but…yeah.” 

“Look, this isn’t the time or the place,” Lauren said. “We have to go.” 

“Sorry. Have fun and let me know if you need anything, okay? Anything at all.” 

“Bo,” Lauren said softly. “You can call the kids anytime you want, but I’m not gonna call you when I’m gone. And I don’t want you to call me either.” 

Bo started to panic. “Why does it feel like I’m never gonna see you again?” 

“You will, Bo,” Lauren said. “I have your car – and our kids. I just think that we need some time apart. I am coming back.” 

Bo could only hope that Lauren would keep her word as the couple went to help their children. 

After the kids said their goodbyes to Bo, Lauren lingered at the door. “I guess we’re all set,” she said. “Are you planning to have anyone over while we’re gone?” 

“Probably Kenzi,” Bo replied, nothing that her wife said ‘gone’ and not ‘away’. “She’ll be back in town tonight, and she’ll be so mad that she missed this.” 

“Hmm.” Lauren smiled. “Well, try not to eat only pizza for every meal. I’m sure the kids will miss her too, but they can still have video chats over the phone.” 

“Yeah.” Bo’s voice was filled with pride. “Can’t say I know of any kids their age who are _that_ good with technology. Must be you.” 

“No, it’s you as well. Technology _and_ street savvy,” Lauren teased. “When they have a momma like that, who needs a superhero to idolize?” 

“Well, I guess whatever happens, we did good with them.” Bo sighed. “Remember how we named them?” 

“Like it was yesterday.” Lauren grinned. “I always liked the name Ethan for a boy, Charlotte for a girl,” she rehashed. 

“You have baby names?” Bo played along. “You want babies?” 

“Absolutely.” Lauren looked into Bo’s eyes. “Don’t you?” 

“I…Lauren?” A flicker of recognition appears in Bo’s eyes. 

The spell breaks. 


	5. War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Infinite Earths' with a doccubus twist. Prompt: War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mentions of torture

“Let me go!” Bo struggled with the constraints as she’s led into a worn down building. 

“Shut up, bitch!” One of the soldiers barked, dragging her up the stairs. 

“Aww, let her speak,” the other, bald, soldier said, his breath smelling of cigarettes and vodka. “Soon she won’t be able to make a sound, much less speak!” With that, her captors shared a good laugh. 

“What…what do you mean?” Bo narrowed her eyes, truly in fear for the first time. 

“Why, don’t you know?” The bald one drawled. “We’re taking you to the place where you’ll be safe from guns and explosives. You’ll be protected from those nasty firearms, you will.” 

“But soon,” he leaned forward, stopping an inch from Bo’s face. “You’ll wish you were risking it in the warzone. You’ll see what I’m talking about, girly.” 

Nobody said a word until they reached the third floor. Along the way, Bo tried to numb herself to the moans and screams that seemed to come from everywhere in the building. 

“So who do we have here?” A woman adorned in a lab coat walked towards the trio, eyes on her clipboard. 

“Caught her off the streets trying to sneak into here, doctor,” the soldier said. “One of your kind, I believe.” 

“Pardon?” Brown eyes looked up, her steely tone as frosty as her expression. 

“Oh, I meant she fits your request list, doctor. Sorry, no disrespect intended.” 

The doctor eyed them in silence for a few seconds, and if Bo weren’t about to collapse from hunger and exhaustion, she could have sworn that she saw the men trembling. 

“Leave,” the doctor said, satisfied with the answer and going back to her clipboard. The soldiers almost tore off Bo’s feet as they removed the metal chain and marched off in haste. Bo tried to charge at the doctor, to find herself held down by two people in scrubs. 

“Don’t even bother,” the doctor said without sparing a glance at Bo. “Your rush of adrenaline will only get you a surge of cortisol, which makes you even hungrier. To my office,” she said, walking away. 

———- 

‘Shut up’ was all Bo heard before she even opened her mouth. The doctor locked the door and turned to her, carrying a tray. “Now you can try to attack me, which will end up with you dead, or you can eat and then tell me why you’re here. Nod your head if you understand.” 

Bo, too weak to resist the smell coming from the bowl, gave the subtlest of nods, glaring daggers at the doctor. 

As the doctor fed Bo, the detainee sneaked a look at the doctor and saw ‘Lewis’ on her coat. Although it wasn’t visible from the doctor’s movements, the haggard face suggested that she hasn’t slept for months. 

_Well, serves her right_ , Bo thought spitefully. 

“So, tell me why you were sneaking around my building.” The doctor placed the empty tray on her desk and washed her hands in the sink. 

“I came here to rescue Kenzi. Where is she?” Now that she had more energy, she could afford a fiery tone. 

“Kenzi who?” 

“Kenzi! The skinny girl with blue eyes and black hair! I saw them bring her in four days ago, don’t play dumb with me!” Bo wasn’t sure if Lewis was baiting her, but she was infuriated by the doctor’s nonchalant attitude. 

“In a place to make demands now that we’re fed, are we?” Lewis replied coolly as she retrieved a file from a cabinet. “You’re better off not knowing where she is. When I let you out later, run back to your hiding place and never come back. More importantly, don’t ever let those soldiers see you again.” 

“I won’t leave until I find her!” 

“You will, if you want to live.” 

“You underestimated me, _Lewis_ ,” Bo sneered. “Kenzi and I have been living on the streets years before the war. You think I’m afraid of dying?” 

“Oh the contrary, _Bo_ ,” Lewis dropped her file on the desk and walked up to her. “I don’t think you’re afraid of dying. 

“But I do think that you’ll have _some_ reservation towards having your leg sawed off and attached to your arm, which will also be cut off,” the doctor snarled as she thrust her face into Bo’s. “I do think that you _might_ have some fear of being impregnated in the most brutal way just so they can kill you when you’re eight months along, all for a little dissection.” 

“I also think that you _could_ be afraid of being infected with various strains of disease, so toxic that you wouldn’t even remember your name, much less Kenzi’s, after a week,” the doctor continued, her hands gripping Bo’s shoulder. “But you’ll be conscious enough to feel the pain for months while they eat away your insides.” 

“Trust me, dying would seem like a _gift_ the Gods deem to grace us after this. And if you ask me, I haven’t seen them around for a long, long time.” Lewis straightens up and picks up the file again, as if nothing happened at all. 

“Us,” Bo said softly, after she recovered from her shock. She was desperate to know what had happened to Kenzi, but she didn’t dare to cross the doctor – yet. 

“Pardon?” 

“You said the Gods deem to grace ‘us’, which included yourself. I think you meant 'the Gods deem to grace you’.” 

“I meant what I said,” the doctor replied and paid no attention to Bo for the rest of the afternoon. 

———— 

“Are you ready?” Lewis said as she prepared to release Bo from the chair. “The patrol lessens after midnight so it’ll be easier for you to run.” 

“Dr Lewis, please,” Bo said. “Please let me bring Kenzi with me, or at least tell me where I can find her.” 

“Bo, you could hardly feed yourself, and the war is only going to get much worse. Trust me – the only person you should look after is yourself.” 

“You don’t understand,” Bo protested. “She’s - she’s - she’s Kenzi. She’s smart, and honest, and kind. She’s like my sister. Even when we’re starving, when I’m with her, I know everything is going to be okay. She is my heart.” 

The doctor stared at her for a moment before she picked up a pair of scrubs. “Change into this and follow me. Just remember that there are armed people in this building. One wrong move and they’ll shoot you before you take another step.” 

As they walked down the hallway, every scream and moan made Bo want to throw up as visuals of what Lewis told her plagued her mind. She could only pray that none of them came from Kenzi. 

————  


Right before they walked into a room at the end of the hallway, the doctor turned around. 

“Whatever you see, don’t shout or scream,” she warned. “The only thing you’re going to do is put us all into jeopardy. Are you ready?” 

Satisfied with the nod from Bo, she opened the door and ushered her in. 

“What…” Bo placed her hand on her mouth, too horrified to continue. Her best friend lay on the bed, unconscious, with tubes inserted into her nose and mouth. 

She growled and grabbed the doctor’s lapels, slamming her to the wall. “What the hell have you guys done to her?” she hissed. “Why does she have blood leaking from her eyes?” 

“Poison X,” the doctor replied calmly. “Our newest project.” 

“You say _project_ like it’s nothing, like these people are nothing,” Bo snarled, restraining herself from choking the doctor. “What kind of monsters are you?” 

“The worst kind,” the doctor said without missing a beat and pushed Bo off. “My work is the will of the Ash.” 

“I’ve developed a rudimentary treatment, but it’s not a cure. It’s some sort of hemorrhagic fever from a virus, and I can’t identify the source.” 

“Treatment? So you’re helping her? She has a chance?” 

“I can’t tell. The only solution is to find the original source of the virus so that I can develop an antitoxin, and they’re still keeping it from us.” 

“But – but you’re helping her?” Bo said. “You’ll keep her alive for as long as you can?” 

“Don’t fool yourself,” the doctor said coolly, heading for the door. “Why do you think human experimentation happens in the first place? This isn’t help – I’m only doing my job. 

“In the meantime, I’d appreciate it if you could stay out of trouble. The only one who has a key to this room is me, so if anyone knocks, don’t answer the door.” 

“Why would you be the only one who could come in?” Bo said, confused. “Are you the…head of this…” 

“Atrocity, I believe, is the word you’re looking for,” the doctor replied without turning to face Bo. “Am I the head of this atrocity where I delegate the work to people while I wine and dine with the higher ups and sleep like a pig at night? 

“I should only be so lucky. I have sole access because this virus is so toxic that we decided to risk only me. Consider yourself warned.” 

——- 

The close call came two days later, when a man knocked on the door looking for ‘Lauren’. Bo hid under Kenzi’s bed and frantically looked for something sharp. The man went away after a while, but she stayed in her spot, taking long deep breaths as quietly as she could. 

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she heard the lock turn. She held her breath until she heard the doctor call out her name softly. 

“Where were you?” Bo hissed as she climbed out from underneath the bed. “Someone was here looking for you!” 

Bo thought she saw an expression of relief on the doctor, but changed her mind when the she carried on with her routine of handing a tray to Bo and checking Kenzi’s vital signs. 

“Eat.” She took out a small bottle and drew its contents into a syringe. Before Bo could say anything, the doctor plunged the needle into Kenzi and pushed the plunger. 

‘What was that?” Bo said. “Is she…is she dying? Or was that –” 

“The antidote,” the doctor replied. “They found the source. It was a basilisk – the king of serpents, which would explain the virulence.” 

“I thought they were keeping it secret? How did you get it?” 

“Don’t ask.” The doctor sat down – for once – and looked at Kenzi. “She’ll be fine in a few days. This means that you won’t be able to stay here much longer.” 

“Thank you,” Bo said. “I’ll carry her if I have to, and you’ll never see us again. Just, thank you so much. We’ll never forget this, I promise.” 

“Don’t be silly,” the doctor said as she got up to leave. 

“Dr Lewis?” 

“Yes.” 

“Now that you’ve found the cure…are you going to give it to the others who could be on this…project?” 

“No.” 

The door was shut, and once again, silence befell the room. 

—— 

“Bobo?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Have you noticed that the food we eat here is much better than what we’ve had almost all our lives?” Kenzi said as the two friends shared a quiet lunch. While Bo wanted to celebrate Kenzi gaining back her health with loud cheers and conversations, she was well aware of the dire consequences if they were discovered. 

“I think they’s supposed to be Dr Lewis’s meals,” Bo replied. She paused, recalling that the doctor had never touched anything from her trays since she met her. 

“Don’t get me started on that girl. How could you be so cold and frigid? She’s like a freaking speculum.” 

Before Bo could answer, the door was unlocked and the doctor slipped into the room. 

“You have to leave tonight,” she said without preamble, as always. “I’ll let you out the back door, and there will be two men waiting for you. Their names are Dyson and Hale, and they will take you to a safe place.” 

“What do you mean safe?” Bo said, rising from her chair. 

“Safe.” The doctor took out an envelope from her laboratory coat and handed it to Bo. 

Bo opened it and saw a large stack of bills and a note with a phone number. “I – I can’t take this.” 

“You can,” the doctor said. “Once you get to the place, you’ll have a new lease on life, and you’ll need money. Make sure you keep in touch with Dyson – he’ll know where to find me if you need anything.” 

“Dr Lewis, I – ” 

“God speed and good luck, Bo.” The doctor interrupted with a curt nod and held Bo’s gaze for a second. “And you,” she turned to Kenzi, “stay out of trouble because you know that she’ll follow you anywhere. Keep an eye on her.” 

After the doctor left the room, Kenzi stared at Bo. “Okay, I don’t know if it’s from the aftereffects of the poison, but that was some serious sparkage. I think she likes you.” 

“Well she saved both our lives, so I sure _hope_ that she likes me,” Bo said. “But it doesn’t matter,” she continued, staring into the distance. “It doesn’t matter because she’s…on the other side.” 

—- 

It was four months before Bo saw the doctor again. Unfortunately, in an ironic twist of fate, it was the doctor who was bound with metal chains and locked in a room this time. 

“Dr Lewis,” she whispered as she shook her gently. 

“…Bo? How did you get here? The boys told me that you were safe!” 

“I was, I am,” Bo replied. “I heard the news and I wanted to come see you.” 

“Oh. That’s very kind of you.” The doctor sat up and Bo saw that although she was much worse for the wear, there was something about her that seemed…lighter. 

“Dr Lewis, why didn’t you plead for clemency? Dyson told me about the others that you saved, I’m sure they can come forward to speak for you!” 

“Bo, it doesn’t matter.” 

“But Dr Lewis, it does! Hale said they’re accusing you of many other things that you didn’t do!” 

“Bo,” the doctor said firmly. “It doesn’t. I have to pay for the crimes that I did commit, so it wouldn’t have made any difference. Trust me, it’s better this way…I’m actually looking forward to it. But I’m glad to see you – are you and Kenzi doing well?” 

Bo knew that she wouldn’t be able to get the doctor to change her mind, so she complied with Dr Lewis’s subtle request to change the subject. For the first time, there was some normalcy in their interaction. The doctor was less reserved and at times surprised Bo with her liveliness. 

They talked about their childhood, their family and their dreams, and Bo gushed about her lovely new home, pretending that the doctor would be visiting it instead of taking a trip to the gallows on the next day. 

When morning came, their voices were hoarse, and the conversation took a faster pace. Lauren was giving Bo advice on what courses to take in school, and what sort of work would fit Kenzi, when Dyson came. 

“Dr Lewis,” he nodded briskly. 

The doctor returned the gesture and turned to Bo, “It’s time.” 

“Lauren, Lauren,” Bo begged, calling the doctor by first name. “Please, please do something. I really want you to stay, to come visit, to…start a new life with me. Don’t you want to?” 

“I do want to, Bo, but…it’s not about that. The truth is, you were right – I am a monster. And death is a welcome reprieve for me at this point.” 

“You’re not! Lauren, I could see the good in you, why else would you help me – ” 

“Well, I have a hypothesis. I think it’s because of what we feel for each other.” The doctor gently nudged Bo to the cell door and asked Dyson, “Let them know their secrets are safe with me, and I'll bear the responsibilities for all the other war crimes. You’ll take care of Nadia? Make sure she gets out safely?” 

The detective nodded. “I know where they’re holding the hostages. What’s the secret phrase?” 

Reverting to the coldness and Bo had witnessed when she first knew the doctor, Lauren said: “Call off the cleansing. In the Ash’s name, it is done.” 

“Goodbye, Bo. Maybe in another life,” she said as she smiled, and for the first time, Bo saw those brown eyes escape their icy confines. 

“No! I’m not leaving you!” Bo said as she grabbed the doctor to her and kissed her. 

As they parted, a flicker of recognition appeared in Bo’s eyes, and she screamed: “Lauren!” 

The spell breaks. 


	6. Zombies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: character death; cannibalism

“Mercy, please!”

The human shivered, eyes widened in horror and fear as they pleaded for their life.

“Mm.” The fae cocked her head to the side for a brief moment of contemplation. “Okay.”

“Tha-thanks!”

“Wait,” she called out when the human was almost out of the alley. “I meant ‘okay, I’ve decided’. And the answer……is no.”

Bo pounced.

The screams were heard from three blocks away.

———————————————————————————————————-

Sauntering into the Ash’s office, Bo dropped her cane carelessly to the floor and sat on the throne, whistling a merry tune. She was about to grab a drink from a tray when she heard the annoying voice.

“Yo Succubitch!”

She rolled her eyes and waved the slave away. Leaning to the side of the throne, she placed her head on her hand, feigning interest as she looked at the caller. “And what can I do for you, valkyrie?”

“Well you can let me go and so I can take you down the old school way. Are you so afraid of me that you have to keep me in magical chains?” Tamsin taunted. “Can’t blame you for that, ‘cause after all, I am stronger and older.”

Bo walked down the steps to where the valkyrie was chained. She leaned forward and whispered, “All I just heard…was old.”

Tamsin growled and yanked the chains. “Baby fae.”

“Uh uh, not so baby anymore,” Bo said in a sing-song voice as she stepped back. “Who would have thought though, that fae blood doesn’t just protect you from a zombie’s bite, but actually enhances your power?

“While I’m concerned about my dependence on flesh, the endless supply of humans does make me feel a tad better about it.”

“It’s not our fault you’re stupid enough to go around with only a knife and got bitten by one, succubus.” The valkyrie leaned on the wall and said with a smirk. “I’ll let you have your fun now, since it won’t be long till the dark comes looking for me.”

Bo threw her head back in laughter. “Oh Tam Tam. I guess I forgot to keep you updated when I was busy building my empire of fae-zombies. The heads of the four noble families work for me now, and the Morrigan, well…”

“Let’s just say that there is no light or dark.” Bo turned to face Tamsin.

“There is only me.”

The blue that flashed in Bo’s eyes was the brightest that Tamsin had ever seen in the succubus.

———————————————————————————————————————————

“You got room for one more?”

The fae turned their heads to the newcomer.

“Why Dyson,” Bo drawled. “Was thinking how long would it take for you to show up.”

“Sorry for the tardiness, your highness,” the shape shifter said with a bow. “Had to run an errand and I got hungry.”

“I assume you have what I want?”

“Would hate to disappoint you.” Dyson picked a feather from his teeth, and whistled. Two guards dragged in a struggling human.

“Bo! What have they done to you?”

“Kenzi! Good of you to join us,” Bo exclaimed as she walked to the bound woman and wrapped her in a hug. She put the human at arms’ length to look over her and pouted. “You don’t look too well. I wanted to come for you sooner, but I heard that you were hiding and working with Hale’s family to stop my plans.”

“Have to say, Kenzi.” Bo clicked her tongue. “I’m very disappointed in you.”

“You can’t do this, Bo! It isn’t you! What about Lauren? Where…where is she?”

“Oh, so you’re friends with her now?” Bo put her hand on Kenzi’s jaw. “Don’t you worry your pretty little human head about this, my sweet Kenz. I’m taking good care of her.”

“What do you mean by that? What did you do to her? I know she won’t stand for this!”

“Shh, it’s okay. She’s alive and well. You think I’d kill her? My own girlfriend?”

“If…if you haven’t,” the human’s voice trembled as she looked at her with distrust, “show me where she is.”

“Fine.” Bo relented. “But just because you’re my bestie.” She turned in the direction of the laboratory and wagged her fingers for the guards to follow her.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

An overpowering scent of bleach greeted the group as they approached the laboratory. It would have been as quiet as it was sterile if it weren’t for the sound of chains being dragged on the floor.

Motioning for the guards to untie Kenzi, Bo leant on the door frame and crossed her arms. With a smirk on her face, she watched as the human almost tripped over herself to get to the blonde.

“Lauren!” Kenzi clutched the doctor’s arm, horrified at the shackles on her limbs, and red welts marking her arms. The doctor kept her head down and looked away, only glancing up to sneak a look at the succubus.

“Lauren! What did she do to you?” She tried to catch her eyes, only to feel the doctor trembling and to hear nothing more than a whimper.

“It’s okay, Lauren,” Bo called out from the door. “Go ahead, tell Kenz what you’ve been up to these days.”

“I-I…” Lauren stammered, and Kenzi winced. Having lived on the streets for years, she could recognize a voice that was hoarse from screaming when she heard one.

“Lauren, we have to get out of here.” She placed her hands on the doctor’s shoulders as gently as she could. “I saw what she did to the fae and humans – this isn’t a Bo that we know anymore.”

“I-I tried,” Lauren whispered. “But sh-she caught me, and she…”

“She what?”

“She made me do everything.” Shame laced the doctor’s voice and she kept her eyes firmly shut.

“So you see, Kenz, there’s nowhere to go,” Bo walked up to the humans and ran her fingers down the doctor’s neck, feeling the goose bumps that followed. “Why don’t you stay with us and stop the mindless resistance? It can be you and I, just like old times.”

“No!” The human recoiled. “It won’t be like old times. The Bo I know would never round up my kind like chattel for food and amusement.”

“Trust me, serving as a source of amusement isn’t so bad,” Bo taunted. “Ask Lauren. She’s often…come…to enjoy it herself.”

“Who are you?!” Kenzi backed away as Bo grinned and moved towards her. She held her breath, waiting to be grabbed, when she saw the doctor moved behind Bo and choked the succubus with the chains that bound her hands.

“Kenzi, run!”

“What – what about you?”

“Don’t worry about me, just go!”

Torn between her guilt of leaving the doctor behind and her instinct to save herself, Kenzi paused for a few seconds before she saw Bo struggle to break free. She ran and swore that she would be back for the doctor, one way or another.

She was almost out of the Ash’s office when she was tackled to the ground.

“La-Lauren? How did you manage to…nevermind, let’s go!”

“Wait, Kenzi, I have to remove these chains first,” the doctor said as she kept the girl pinned down.

“Bo’s catching up to us! Hurry up and let me up so I can help you with those!”

“No no, I can do it by myself,” Lauren said in a sing-song voice. “I’m scary smart, remember?”

Kenzi stared at her assailant with bemusement and a nagging fear, watching the doctor hum and break her chains with supernatural strength. Realization hit her when the succubus stopped and gave Lauren a kiss and a nuzzle when she came up to them.

“Hmm,” the doctor grinned at Kenzi. “Told you not to worry about me, didn’t I?”

“You…you’re part of this? You’re one of them now?!”

“You could say that. A month ago, Bo put me under a thrall and had me find a way to modify my genes to become like theirs. After I did it, she bit me, and well…what’s that saying again?

“Oh yes, the rest is history.”

“But…but the welts on your hand.”

“Oh those.” The doctor rolled her eyes. “What can I say? There’s choking…among other things.”

“See Kenz?” Bo pulled Kenzi to a standing position and stayed behind her. “Told you she came… around. In fact, this was Lauren’s idea.”

“You monster,” Kenzi spat. “Knew I shouldn’t have trusted you.”

“Yes, we’ve heard it all – I’m not a real doctor, yadda yadda yadda,” Lauren drawled. “I have to say, Bo was a teeny bit hesitant on this, but what can I say? She could have a mastermind like me to help her build her empire, or she could have…you.

“And since you’re not all that great – well, not half as great as I am – in the brains department, I guess you would only serve as food.” And with that, the doctor tore into the Kenzi. Bo watched her Lauren feed with relish before joining her lover.

When there were more bones than meat, Bo pushed the corpse away, pulled Lauren towards her, and the lovers shared a passionate kiss, blood dripping from their mouths.

“I love it when you scheme, doctor. Now, what say we bring another patient for you to look at?”

“Mmm,” Lauren hummed as she trailed a bloody finger down Bo’s collar. “She did say you didn’t even feed off of her the last time we spoke, so maybe you should rectify that?”

“Also,” the doctor said as they moved towards the valkyrie. “You know my motto - every patient is a potential tryst…or food.” The lovers’ high pitched laugh could be heard around the compound.

I guess I deserve that, Tamsin thought. She said a silent prayer to Odin that she would be reborn to avenge herself, when she saw the doctor look around her, horrified and confused.

“Bo…?”

“Lauren?” A flicker of recognition appeared in Bo’s eyes. “What - ”

The spell breaks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The character death warning was intended for Kenzi, but I guess it actually applies to everyone now XD


	7. Children

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part took me the longest to write (out of almost all my fanfiction), because I wanted to cover the issue respectfully. I hope I’ve done an adequate job, please share your thoughts if you have any. Greatly appreciate and value constructive feedback.

She went there again.

Despite telling herself last week that it was her last visit to that place, the succubus finds herself creeping into the bedroom once again at 3 in the morning. She almost succeeds in her stealth mission when she sees a few packed boxes in the corner and stumbles.

"Bo?" A groggy voice calls out.

She mutters a curse and gives up the game. "Hey, it's me," she says in the most normal tone she could muster and crawls into bed with her wife. "Go back to sleep."

"Mmm." Lauren doesn't move from her side of the bed. Silence greets the room as the doctor slowly drifts off, and Bo is left alone with her worries – and pain.

The next morning, the succubus wakes up alone in bed with the matching feeling of emptiness. Smelling bacon and eggs, she looks at the clock on the bed stand and buries her face in the pillow in frustration.

She wants to go back to her dreams – her only place of escape these days – but when she sees the boxes again, she knows they can't avoid the issue any longer. Despite all pretenses that all is well, it's eroding their relationship, and will keep eating at them until they are nothing but two empty husks, coexisting simply because their bodies will not stop functioning no matter how much pain they are in.

She picks up her faux kimono nightgown and walks down the stairs with determination. It can end everything, but the Stepford play has to stop today.

"Lauren?" Her sharp eyes see the doctor's hand tremble slightly when she calls.

Lauren recovers at the blink of an eye and continues to serve breakfast – for one. "Morning, Bo," she says with a smile, but her eyes are glued to the plate. "Did you have a good sleep? I didn't know you'd be up this early. I thought you came home at…what time was it?"

"Late. I'm sorry. I – "

"You don't have to say anything, Bo. You had to heal. It's who you are."

 _Here we go again_. "Lauren, I didn't stay out late because I had to heal. I was at –"

"Bo, really, it's okay. You can have this –" she gestures at the plate, "I'm late for work so I'll grab something there."

"On a Saturday? What about you? How are you going to heal when you keep working?"

Lauren doesn't pause at picking up her briefcase – it was as if Bo had said 'have a good day at work'. "I'll be fine." She forces a smile and turns around to wave at the succubus. "I probably have to work late today so don't wait up, okay?"

Bo sighs. It's time to end this charade, and she slams the plate on the counter. "You're not." Once Lauren stops, she swallows hard and pushes before she loses her nerves.

"You're not fine, Lauren. We never talk, and you're always at work."

"Work is important, and I do come home, Bo. You would know if you were at home more instead of being at those places."

 _"Those places?_ Really? You want to know where I go?"

"No, I don't," Lauren hold up her hand to emphasize how much she didn't and rubs her forehead. "Look, I'm not begrudging you. We have different ways of dealing with issues – this is just my way of doing it."

"But you're not okay! You've become a robot!" The succubus steps forward, but Lauren backs away as soon as she does. Pushing the sting away, she wills herself to continue. "Look, maybe we should talk to someone. Dyson gave me the number of a psychiatrist –"

"You talked to Dyson about this?" Lauren's face turns red, and as wrong as it was, Bo is glad that the doctor is displaying _some_ form of emotion. However, she's promptly disappointed as the doctor shakes her head, slipping back into her poker face.

"I knew you would." The tone is cold as ice.

"What's that supposed to mean? You know damn well there's nothing going on between us."

"Bo, it's okay. I don't –"

"You don't what?" She's almost yelling but she doesn't give a damn. The doctor's cool and calm demeanor to her rising temper only fuels her anger. She knows she's being baited, that this is how Lauren escape, but she can't help herself. "You don't care? You don't care if I see him? You don't care if I fuck him? Is that what you want?"

Lauren shrugs. "If you want. Maybe he'll be able to give you kids," she says nonchalantly.

Bo could swear she heard her heart break. At least it's out in the open now, she tells herself as she closes her eyes. Choking back a sob, she saus in the calmest voice she could, "I don't want a kid with him. I don't want to hide where I go. I don't want breakfast for one. I don't want you to work yourself to the ground."

"Well I don't know what you want then!" Lauren flings her briefcase to the door. "I can't give you the things you want! You should know that, Bo – two miscarriages should tell you that!"

Surprised at Lauren's outburst, Bo stands still as she watches her wife disintegrate.

"Of course it's not okay." Lauren slides to the floor, hiding her face in her hands. "Nothing is, and I can't tell you why.

"I can't explain why there were heartbeats, and then there weren't. It doesn't make sense scientifically, and I can't control it if I can't find the reason. Maybe...maybe we're not meant to have children, Bo.

"Maybe we're paying for all the bad things we've done. Maybe we're being punished for Nadia."

As Lauren starts to wail, Bo doesn't know how they're still breathing. Surely their hearts would have stopped at least a thousand times by now from the anguish.

She doesn't know what time it is, or how long they've been sitting there. The clubhouse is completely dark, but neither of them moves. She hypothesizes – a skill she learned from her wife – that the amount of tears flowed had dried them up so much that they've turned into stones.

Cold, cold stones, if it weren't for Lauren leaning on her, the doctor's head on her shoulder.

"I go…I'm not out to heal with anyone when I'm out." The succubus swallows as she prepares for her next sentence. "I go to the park. I look at the children playing there, and I wonder when we can watch our kids do the same."

She sees the doctor open her mouth, and tightens her arm around her to keep her from interrupting. "I meant it. Not _if_ our kids can do the same, not _why_ we can't have kids. _When_ we have kids."

Looking away, she continues, "But once or twice, I think about what would have happened if I weren't fae, and you haven't stumbled on to this world."

"And at my weakest moments," she lowers her voice to a whisper, "I wonder if things would be different if I hadn't been on a ten year killing spree."

"Bo," Lauren says as she scrambles to her feet to face the succubus, her eyes wide with horror. "I was referring to Nadia. The humans…you didn't know."

"And how were we to know about Nadia?" Bo replies softly, looking away and avoiding Lauren's touch. "There was no way to know she was possessed, and when we did, it was…chaotic. He was going to kill you, and she was begging me to…"

"I know… Bo, I didn't mean to imply it was your fault." The doctor gently wipes the tears off the succubus's cheeks, not allowing her to escape. "You couldn't help it – there was no way you could have prevented it."

"Lauren, that's my point – almost everything that's happened in our lives was unanticipated, including Nadia. Unpredictability still rules our days. Sometimes I'm worried if our kids will turn out okay…" She drifts off, knowing from Lauren's expression that the doctor shared her concerns.

"But then I look at us," Bo hastens to add and holds on to Lauren's arms. "Look at who my parents are…a scary dark lord and a half insane succubus, both of whom I've never known.

"And you, you've been isolated by the fae, and they've put you through so much," her tone equal parts of love and reverence as she strokes Lauren's cheeks softly. "Life hasn't been very fair to you and you're still the strongest person I've ever met.

"And Kenzi, she started to run away from home when she was ten. With the exception of Trick, none of us are close to our blood kin. We've all got friends that are more than family."

By now, Lauren seems to catch on. "Bo, what are you saying?"

Saying a silent prayer, the succubus hopes that Lauren will at least be willing to listen. "What I'm trying to say is…I realized it doesn't matter who – or what – our kids are, as long as we love and nurture them."

"You mean…other ways?"

"Yes." She lowers her head and peeks at Lauren's expression. "I mean, if you're okay with it, I don't mind adopting, or…something else."

"But, it doesn't mean you're less of a mother," she cups the doctor's face and adds fervently. "You'll be a great mom, a giving and loving one.

"You'll teach them amazing things, and they'll be mini-encyclopedias by 10, with so much logic and scientific reasoning in them that they're practically mini-Laurens."

Lauren laughs – a genuine one – and Bo knows then that they can get past this. Things aren't completely okay yet, but it's within their reach. If they try.

"And you'll instill them with that fierce sense of individuality and independence, and living the life they want." Lauren's voice, laced with hope, names Bo's traits that she adores. "They'll be our mini-Bos too."

"And Aunt Kenzi can teach them to be street smart." The succubus smirks, knowing her best friend will probably teach them more than that, especially things that she knows Lauren won't approve.

"As long as they don't start running away at the age of 10," Lauren warns, but plays along. "They are, however, free to raid Trick's book collection."

"So it doesn't matter where they come from," Bo adds and plants soft kisses on the doctor's face. "We'll love them all the same, and they'll want for nothing."

"I guess so." The air seems lighter, and the lovers allow themselves to breathe freely. "I have a confession to make," Lauren says, looking down and circling her finger on Bo's arm. "I uh…I had the baby stuff packed and was going to throw them out."

"I know. It's okay."

"I should go unpack them then." The doctor starts to move away, but Bo holds tight.

"We can unpack them later, or move them to another room." The succubus stands, lifting Lauren with her. "But right now, we need to go to bed, and let me show how much I love you."

"But we haven't decided what to do yet…" Lauren says in a muffled voice, already nuzzling Bo's neck.

"We don't have to decide yet, my dear." Bo pays no heed to the doctor's half-hearted protest, but stops to look into her eyes. "We have a long way to go, and we need to heal first – together – so one step at a time, okay?

"We'll take as much time as we need to get there, then whatever we decide, whatever happens, we're in this together."

"Funny, I could swear I heard you say that before," the doctor responds. "Wait…Bo?"

A flicker of recognition appears in their eyes. "Lauren?"

The spell breaks.


	8. Gang

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought I’d try the ‘five times’ theme - it might have been the only way I could write this chapter without turning it into a full-fledged, multichapter fic. I had fun though, so I hope you’ll enjoy it. As always, comments/feedback/criticisms most welcome and appreciated.

The first time she met brown eyes, she could swear she’s seen them before.

That those brown eyes weren’t a result of her delusion – an unfortunate byproduct of getting beaten up and stabbed. It was only when the person spoke, reassuring her that Kenzi was alright, that she was sure she’d never met the woman, because she would never have forgotten that deep, authoritative and soothing tone.

The voice calmed her from her initial panic when she thought she was still in ‘light’ territory. Not caring that she couldn’t even get up from bed, she’d struggled with her binds until brown eyes looked right into hers and a warm hand stroked her bicep, telling her that she’d only make things worse, and that Kenzi was fine.

For the next few days, amidst drifting in and out of consciousness, she managed to make out a mop of blond hair and a thin figure to go with the brown eyes. Strong arms helped her up for trips to the bathroom and when they needed to clean her wounds. 

She knew it wasn’t a hospital, with its fridge filled with funny plants and some sort of bush on the wall. She liked the quiet; it was a welcomed contrast to the chaotic life she led as a ‘captain’ in a gang. The peaceful moments afforded her the rare chance to indulge in her dream of getting away from this life.

Not that it was going to be a dream for much longer, now that she’d completed this ‘assignment’. Evony had promised to halve the profit with her, which would contribute heftily to her ‘start over’ funds. But hey, now that she was injured from the job, she might get more from Evony, she chuckled softly.

“Are you okay?” Brown eyes were staring at her curiously. Her quiet laugh had startled the blonde, who looked up from her microscope. She nodded and smiled her thanks.

“Whatcha doin’?” Her line of work taught her not to start a conversation with personal questions such as their names, so she didn’t.

“Oh, you know, just some doctor-y stuff,” the blonde replied.

“Alright, I get it. You can’t talk to me about whatever it is you do. You probably don’t want to be involved with a hoodlum with me.”

“Really? You wanted to hear about my latest monograph regarding the rhizome gradient repellant comparing human blood types, especially when suspended in an isotonic solution?” 

“…Or we can just stay here quietly.”

And so they did.

——-

The second time she met brown eyes, it was despite Kenzi’s protests.

“It’s light territory, Bo.” Her best friend tried to drag her away. “’Brown eyes works for the light!”

“And brown eyes from the light saved my life, Kenz,” she replied. Seeing that her best friend wasn’t about to relent, she tried another tactic. “From that assignment you got me into, remember?”

“Hey! I know what you’re doing – it won’t work on me!”

“And what would I be doing?” Sensing her best friend was genuinely guilty about it, she added, “I’m fine with it, Kenz. But you really have to be more careful with The Morrigan. We’re almost out of here, so don’t promise her anymore favors, okay?”

“Okay. And for the record, I really am sorry.”

She wrapped her arm around Kenzi’s shoulders and kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry about it – I figured I must be paying my debt for what happened in the past life. I must have something really terrible, like eaten you as a zombie or something.”

“But,” she grabbed her best friend’s arm, “I have another debt to clear now – with the one saved my life. If you’re worried, you can stay out and call for reinforcements if I’m not out soon, okay?”

And with her best friend’s begrudged blessing, she strode ahead.

“Dr Lewis?” Finding the door unlocked and partly opened, she stepped into the apartment warily. Kenzi could be right after all – she didn’t really know brown eyes, especially who she was involved with in the light. Once she heard someone retching, however, she ran to the bathroom.

“Dr Lewis?”

Brown eyes looked up in confusion. “Who…? Oh, it’s you.”

“Yep, it is,” she made a move to help the doctor up. “Are you sick? I’ll give you a hand.”

“No, no…Bo, is it?” Brown eyes smiled. “No no Bo. That’s funny.”

Alarm bells clanging in her head, Bo looked closely at the doctor and saw everything. Brown eyes was nodding off. Brown eyes had a runny nose. Brown eyes was vomiting. The brown eyes were constricted.

Brown eyes was high. And if she saw it once, she saw it a thousand times – it was heroin.

She felt like her world had turned upside down.

——-

The third time she met brown eyes, they’d exchanged tens of phone calls and more texts. Considering her background, she made it her life motto not to judge or ask questions. When it came to brown eyes, she succeeded with the former, but failed just as miserably with the latter.

She’d discuss it with Kenzi – after swearing her to secrecy – until her best friend was sick of it, then she discussed it with herself a thousand times more. She didn’t know how brown eyes became an addict, but what was more baffling was the doctor didn’t seem to care.

The blonde’s ‘lifestyle’ – or erratic ‘working’ schedule – caused her insomnia, and this was how they had all those late night calls. Soon after, Bo started to forgo her favorite nightgowns when going to bed, opting for clothes that allowed her to leave the house at a moment’s notice. She nearly did that a few times when the doctor failed to pick up the phone or returned her texts in a timely manner, until brown eyes rang back and told her she had ‘patients’. Aware of the nature of brown eyes’ work, Bo knew it meant the light and dark had another fight that night.

They talked about everything but brown eyes’ ‘habit’, and since the doctor never offered, Bo never had the courage to approach it either. She knew the light kept her well supplied, probably because it was obvious to anyone who came across brown eyes that she was a genius. It only fueled Bo’s curiosity – how and why would someone of that caliber work for a gang?

And if it was to feed her addiction, how did she get addicted in the first place?

This cycle of thought nearly drove her mad before Kenzi threw a stuffed toy at her the previous night. Her best friend mandated that she talked to brown eyes before she woke everyone with her loud obsessive thoughts and destroyed her own pillow.

She flung the stuffed pig back and fluffed her pillow once more. Thinking her best friend had a point, she texted the doctor. “Wanna have dinner tomorrow?”

And this was how she ended up in the doctor’s apartment, scarfing down the most scrumptious meal she’d had in her entire life. She told herself she was eating to replenish her energy after a night of tossing and turning after the doctor invited her over.

She was eyeing the tupperwares of food that brown eyes had considerately packed for Kenzi, thinking her best friend would probably never find out if she ate them, when she caught brown eyes looking at her.

Like a dog and a cat meeting each other for the first time, they stared at each other until brown eyes laughed, and Bo decided it was the best sound she’d heard in her life. She blamed it on the three bottles of wine they’d manage to polish.

After their laughter died, she sheepishly held up another bottle. “More?”

They were working towards the fifth when she confessed to brown eyes that she’s wanted to ‘retire’ from this life for a while. The alcohol gave her the bravado to ask her question, “What about you? You ever feel like you needed to go somewhere and start a new life?”

“Me?” brown eyes swirled her wine with a little less finesse than usual, “I’m good here – they keep me well supplied.”

“Lauren, if you don’t mind telling me, why…”

“Why I’m a high functioning junkie? Hmm.” The doctor smiled and rolled her eyes. “My ex-girlfriend – Nadia – was doing an investigation for a magazine of hers. She managed to sneak into light territory one day and took some photographs that she wasn’t supposed to – and got caught.

“They found out I was a surgeon and called me to do a trade. Turns out some of their members were badly injured and they needed help. And so I did and they released Nadia.”

“But,” brown eyes moved to refill her glass and didn’t stop until it was nine tenths full, “I guess they thought I was good, or at least could keep my mouth shut, because those calls never stopped. It didn’t matter that Nadia wasn’t with them – they made sure to tell me they knew of her whereabouts at all times.

“And one day, the hospital launched an investigation of missing medical supplies, I knew I had to leave.” At this, brown eyes took large gulps of her wine. “The Ash was all too happy to pay me well for my commitment to him, and soon after I started this ‘job’, Nadia got sent to Africa for an assignment.

“I thought that would break their stranglehold on us, and I made plans to go somewhere far, far away as soon as she got back. But, as luck would have it, she was killed in a mugging a few weeks after she returned.” 

“Lauren…” Her wine forgotten, she moved close to make sure brown eyes was okay. As okay as someone could be in this situation, anyway.

“And I…well, I no longer cared.” The resigned smile didn’t quite reach her eyes this time. “So no, I’m in no hurry to leave.”

Bo wanted to cry the tears she knew must have flowed many, many times from those brown eyes.

——-

The fourth time Bo met brown eyes, she realized she had actually seen those eyes, long before the doctor saved her life.

Their dinners had become a regular thing, and her best friend didn’t object as it meant she got a regular supply of ‘real’ food as well.

This was how they found themselves stumbling into brown eyes’ room in a flurry of kisses and gasps. After making sure all their clothes were off, Bo placed herself on top of brown eyes and was about to bury herself in the warmth, softness and that sweet, sweet smelling hair when she saw a photo on the nightstand.

It was Nadia.

Nadia, whom she was commanded to kill – as a favor from The Morrigan to The Ash. Nadia, whose pockets she emptied to fake a botched robbery. Nadia, whose death helped fast track her ‘promotion’ to captain.

Nadia, who kept a photo of brown eyes, which Bo now remembered was her first sighting.

Her sudden stillness from staring at the photo prompted the doctor to follow her gaze. In her lust – followed by shock – induced haze, she momentarily forgot that brown eyes was sharp.

“You’ve seen her before.” Not a hint of doubt existed in that tone. 

“I…”

One look at those intense brown eyes and she knew the doctor had switched to life-saving or serious-work mode.

“I’m sorry, I have to go.” She was out of breath, but for entirely different reasons. She hastily threw on a shirt and some pants with no inkling of to whom they belong.

An arm gripped hers right before she stepped out into the hallway. “ _Bo_ ,” she’d never heard the doctor say her name with such conviction. “You _know_ her.”

Without turning back, she begged, “I don’t know anything, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Lauren, please just let me go. Please!”

“Not until you tell me what happened,” brown eyes were an inch from hers. “You owe me at least that.”

“Fine.” She lowered her gaze. “But…let’s sit somewhere first.”

Through stammers and stutters, Bo told the doctor what and when she was assigned. While she didn’t know the reason previously, it hit her as soon as she finished the story. Judging by the widened brown eyes, she knew the doctor had figured it out too – The Ash was aware of her plans of leaving, and thought she was too precious a commodity to release.

They sat in silence with Bo feeling like a death row inmate on her last appeal. Unable to stand it after ten minutes, she hightailed out of the doctor’s apartment after a whispered apology.

That night, she handed all her cash to Kenzi. “Use the money wisely when you start your new life. Call me if you need anything, but Kenz, stay as far away as you can from this pit if you can, okay? Don’t look back.”

Kenzi’s cries and questions fell on deaf ears as she undressed for bed for the first time in months. She knew there wouldn’t be any calls or texts, but sleep eluded her all the same. 

——-

The fifth time she met brown eyes, she thought it would be her last look at them.

“H-ey doctor.”

“Bo, why did you do that?” She wasn’t sure if the tears were a result of her delusion – once again. And when she felt drops of water falling on her face, she smiled despite having a few bullets lodged in her.

Or had, once she noticed that her wounds were bandaged. She vaguely recalled sneaking into the doctor’s place, and thought she probably blacked out after that.

“Because.”

“Bo, you could have died – you nearly did! What were you thinking, storming into The Ash’s place?”

“I owed you too much, doctor,” she reached to touch brown eyes’ face, “Nadia’s one, and that one time you saved me. Huh. I guess that’s twice you’ve saved me now, so I owe you two more.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” brown eyes kissed the back of her hand. “If it weren’t you, they would have someone else do the job. I don’t blame you.”

“But it _was_ me,” Bo whispered. “So how ‘bout we do this – I killed The Ash, so that’s one. I’ll take you out of here, and you’ll get a new lease on life, which makes it two.

“And the third one…I plan to spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll let me.”

“You don’t have to, Bo, save yourself,” brown eyes shakes her head, “It’s too late for me – the gangs have ruined my life, Bo. They have killed my girlfriend, they have held me prisoner, sometimes literally.

“And all the while my brain, my addiction…don’t you see?”

“I do…and I know we can beat this. You can beat this.”

“Bo, this is crazy. We’ve only met five times. You don’t even know my name – my real name.” 

The fact that brown eyes had been keeping count of the times they met made her heart sing. “Actually, it’s six times.” Someday, maybe when they’ve all healed, she’d tell brown eyes about the photograph.

“And Lauren? Whoever you are, I know you.” 

“…Bo?” A flicker of recognition appeared in those brown eyes, and Bo thought she’d seen them all her life.

“Lauren?”

The spell broke.


	9. Seniors

"Can I help you?"

"Just looking around, thanks," Bo replies as she peruses the flower shop, and nearly picks up a bouquet when she remembers that winter's almost over. Not wanting to aggravate the doctor's allergy, she opts for some lovely – but fake – flowers and drives home. She notices offhandedly that spring has greeted their suburb, hastily parks her car by the white picket fence and jogs to their house.

She finds her wife reading in bed and lingers at the door, feeling that her assignment has truly ended. "Hey, sorry I've been away for so long." She hands the fake bouquet to her wife and removes her leather jacket. "It's some sort of cookie monster that was particularly hard to track."

Lauren nearly responds, but sneeze three times in a row instead. Concerned, Bo steps closer and places her hand on the doctor's forehead.

"Hey I didn't know it was that bad. Why didn't you tell me?" She gives Lauren a quick peck on the cheek. "You should have called."

Lauren smiles. "I didn't want to bother you."

"You never bother me, and you should always, always call me. For whatever reason."

"It's okay Bo, you're here now."

She climbs into bed and spoons her wife, stroking her hair. "It's that time again, huh?" she says absently, enjoying the feel of the silky strands sliding along her hand.

"Yeah."

"Well, I'll be there, as always."

"Bo, about that…" Once again, the doctor's sentence is interrupted, this time by a coughing fit. Bo strokes her back and shushes her. "It's okay Lauren, this can wait. We've done this before, take a breath."

"Bo, let me," Lauren holds up her hand. "I want – I need – to tell you…I've decided not to return this time."

Bo halts. She wants to believe that she's heard wrong, but her wife's expression tells her otherwise. "You're not coming back? Why?"

Lauren looks down. "I didn't make any more serum."

"What? Why? It doesn't matter now, I'll call the lab and have your assistants make some immediately." She reaches for her phone on the nightstand when a hand – greatly wrinkled by age – stops her.

"Bo, we know the serum has a diminishing return. Each time we…each time I use it, it works less well than the last, shortening five years from the usual lifespan."

"Yes, but we've only done this seven times," the succubus responds. "You still have plenty left. And you'll always find a way, like how you created the serum in the first place."

"We have, Bo, and I can, but…I'm just so tired." Lauren closes her eyes and leans on their headboard. "Every time I come back, when the memories come flowing back once we kiss…they've all added up. I know I'm not 450 years old physically, but it's starting to feel like I am, mentally."

Looking like an abandoned puppy, Bo questions softly, "You mean you're starting to feel tired of me?"

At this, Lauren looks into her wife's eyes. "I'll never get tired of you, Bo, you know that. It's just that…I'd like to rest."

"You mean rest forever," the succubus whispers brokenly.

Lauren smiles resignedly. "Bo, aren't you tired too?"

"I'll never tire of you, Lauren," the succubus shakes her head vehemently. "I love you, Lauren. I want to be with you and love you as long as I can." She knows she's avoided the doctor's real question, but it's only because she doesn't want to lie. All seven times that it's happened, even if the succubus knew she'd meet her lover again in 20 odd years, she's died a little each time they said goodbye.

The succubus always thought she'd get used to the feeling. She's still waiting for that day.

"But you _are_ tired, Bo." Despite being sick, the doctor misses nothing. "For the last few times, you've taken off longer than usual, only returning for the last few weeks of the goodbye."

Bo opens her mouth to deny that, but finds she has no words.

"I'm sorry, Lauren, I'm sorry. I promise I'll never leave again, please don't go."

"Hey, Bo, I'm not punishing you. And I never minded."

"Maybe you're right," Bo interrupts. "I hate saying goodbyes. But I'm always back, and I know it's just a matter of time before we're reunited. I can take that, I can. Lauren, please, if you're worried about me..."

"It's not just that, Bo." Lauren sighs. "Don't you want to explore other things? See what's out there?"

"But we've explored, and we've seen the world together, Lauren. You've done a great job of showing it to me."

"Yes, but what about the other stuff out there?" Lauren says.

"There isn't anything I haven't seen with you."

"I mean without me."

Like a stubborn kid stomping her foot, the succubus argues, "But I'm not interested in doing any of that without you, Lauren."

"Bo, you have many centuries more to go…you should make the best of your years, view the world from someone else's perspective, let yourself go. And while it might pain me to say it," she strokes the succubus' hands and rolls her eyes, "enjoy the single life, or discover other sides of your nature."

"I don't…" Bo isn't sure if she's in denial mode and refusing to understand the doctor's message, but she doesn't care. "Haven't I always proven that I'm more than my biology?"

"You have, Bo – you've been the best, the most fantastic lover and wife that one can ask for, and you've made me so, so happy. But like I told you from day one, you're not a monster, It's not bad if you wanted to explore that side."

"Lauren, I don't want to be alone, please." She's vaguely aware that she's behaving like a child on the first day of school, begging her parents not to leave her. "Trick's gone, and Dyson and Hale have their own families…" She finds herself unable to continue when she gets to Kenzi. Her best friend had refused the 'incarnation' serum, saying she'd already lived a hell of a life, had no regrets, and was ready for whatever awaited her next.

Why do the ones she love the most always choose to leave her?

Catching on to Bo's thoughts, Lauren quickly reassures her, "We're not abandoning you, Bo, no one ever did. We just…we need to move on, and you still have lots of friends.

"You can always build new relationships. There are many new, young fae who look up to you. I just…I'm feeling a little like fake flowers that have been there forever. I don't want you to be alone, but I think it's time you try to be just 'Bo', and not 'Lauren and Bo'."

Finally accepting that her wife really wants to move on, she nods.

"Bo, there's one more thing," the doctor stammers, and Bo looks up. "Will you…do that for me?"

Looking into Lauren's eyes, her own widen in horror as she realizes what the doctor's asking.

"What? No! It's not enough that we have to say goodbye, you want me to be the one who…who kills you?" She moves away from Lauren and steps out of their bed.

"It's not killing." Lauren reaches for her and pulls her back. "We never tried this because we didn't know how it would affect the serum, but now that we've decided, I'd like it to be quick. It won't hurt, right?"

" _You_ decided, not us!" No longer able to control her emotions, Bo gestures wildly. "I won't do this, Lauren, I won't."

"Bo, Bo, listen to me." The doctor uses all her strength to stand and Bo steps forward to support her. "I hadn't wanted you to know, but it's pretty bad this time. I'm very sick. I'm in a lot of pain, and I…I'm exhausted.

"It makes sense too, no? In all my lives when we kiss, your love and chi would restore my memory, giving me back all my past lives. So it's like…a reverse this time."

She knows she's defeated. She could never bear knowing Lauren was in pain. Not in their first lifetime together, and not now.

"Fine. But can you give me at least one more week with you?"

Lauren acquiesced, a peaceful expression finally adorning her face.

And so the doctor and the succubus spend their last week together in tranquility. They sit in the garden a lot, look at their photo albums and tease each other about the way they dressed. When they look at Kenzi's outrageous poses, Bo asks Lauren to say hi if she sees her and Lauren nods.

Lauren's frailty means Bo has to carry her everywhere, including the bathroom. The doctor knows they've been together too long for her to be embarrassed about it, but she feels so anyway. But every time it happens, Bo makes it better by kissing her reddened cheek and climbs into the bathtub with her.

In their previous lifetimes, neither minded the contrast of their appearances when it happened, although they did find it fascinating in the first few lifespans. They used to laugh about it, but for the first time in centuries, Bo finds herself questioning when did Lauren grow so old, and how could she have missed it.

"You're beautiful," she whispers into the doctor's ear, kisses her shoulder and repeats that sentiment a hundred times every night.

During the last days, Bo asks the others to visit, and she busies herself taking photographs of the group. Halfway through, she says, "Oh hey, looks like we've run out of batteries.

"You guys stay – I'll run out to get some. I'll pick up more drinks and snacks on the way as well, so I'll be awhile." With that, she stumbles to the porch and let loose the tears she's been holding throughout the week. Tears fall and fall until she feels a hand on her shoulder. She turns around abruptly, thinking Lauren might need something.

"Don't worry. Your wife's advising mine about her pregnancy, as usual." Dyson sits beside her on the step.

"Ever the doctor," Bo smiles and wipes her tears. "And aren't you gonna stop at some point? Geez, how many wolf pups do you want?"

"You know me, I've always wanted a big family."

They sit there for minutes, Bo's sobs gradually slowing down.

"You know, I don't think I ever told you this, but I always thought you made the right choice." The wolf confesses, his hand still on Bo's shoulder. "I really didn't believe it when you first told me, but when I took my blinders off, I saw what everyone saw – that you were really meant for each other."

"Thanks, but a lot of good it does me now."

"Bo, you have to stop thinking like that. Remember what I said during your Dawning? 'Ask me again in a hundred years'," Dyson rubs his neck sheepishly. "That was the wrong thing to say, but the point is, I didn't think Lauren would survive past one lifetime.

"So whatever you had after that is a gift. And you didn't squander it. We all saw that. Be happy with that."

Bo nods and they head into the house. This time, she wraps her arms around Lauren from behind the couch, playfully warning Hale to stop flirting with her wife. In an attempt to reassure Lauren that she'll at least survive, she jokes around and chats with their old gang, and for a fleeting moment, she feels that she'll be okay.

The day's finally here, and Bo hasn't slept a wink the night before, choosing to count Lauren's breaths and thinking of possible Hail Mary pleas for the doctor to change her mind. Yet nothing comes out of her lips when she sees Lauren at complete peace in the morning, and she stands at the doorway with their breakfast until the doctor calls out for her morning kiss.

The rest of their day passes by uneventfully. After they exchange their millionth "I love yous", Lauren moves upward to kiss the succubus softly, she adds, "Thank you, Bo. I still remember the first time we met, and I was resigned to work as a slave for the light until you saved me."

"I didn't save you," Bo corrects, stroking her thumbs along Lauren's cheeks, her hands warming the doctor's cool face. "You saved yourself, I just helped you with that."

"But you did. You gave me the courage and the willpower to do something about it."

"And you gave me so, so, so much more in return, Lauren. I just wanted to you know… you're my first. My first human, my first love. My first everything."

"You remember that far back huh, you old fae?" Lauren teases.

"Every time I close my eyes," Bo replies in all seriousness. "All the years, all your lifespans, all the words we've said to each other." Desperate, she decides to give it a last try. "Lauren, please? Please stay, even if it's once more? For me?"

Lauren shakes her head and smiles sadly. "It's time."

"I just…I always thought you'd be with me till the end." Bo sobs. "That when my lifetime is almost over, sitting side by side in rocking chairs, reminiscing all our times together.

"And I'll look at you and still think you're the most beautiful woman ever, and we'll be old, but we'll hold our wrinkled hands together, and they'll be warm."

Her own eyes filled with tears, Lauren wipes Bo's face gently. "Then look at me now and hold my hands. And tell me I'm the most beautiful woman ever.

"You are, Lauren, you are." Their sheets are now soaked and she's pretty sure it's her fault. "You are the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I'll never forget you. Even if I live to 3,000 years old, you'll still be the best."

"Promise me you'll live, Bo, please."

"I promise," she brings their hands together and kisses the doctor's knuckles, "It'll take me sometime, but I'll go on.

"And when mine's almost over, I'll sit in a rocking chair somewhere. When I'm ready to go, I'll close my eyes and remember our lives together."

"And I'll be there, Bo. At the end. I promise."

"Lauren…?"

"Hmm?" The doctor looks at her the way she's done for 450 years, like the succubus could do no wrong.

"I just want to know…why didn't you tell me your decision earlier? I would have gone for fewer missions and spent more time with you, if I knew."

Lauren smiles, and Bo wants to crumble at the thought that it might be her last time seeing it.

"That's the whole point, Bo," she holds Bo tightly. "We're supposed to just live. We cheated with the serum, but everything else was to go on as normal, right?

"Also, I didn't…I know you hate goodbyes. I was afraid you wouldn't come."

"Lauren, I made that promise in our first lifetime and I never intended to break it. I wouldn't miss any part of your life for the world."

They stare at each other for a few more moments, neither of them saying the word that the succubus hates.

Lauren nods encouragingly, and Bo leans in for the last kiss when a flicker of recognition appears in both their eyes.

"Lauren…?"

"Bo?"

The spell breaks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So............ >_>
> 
> As always, would greatly appreciate any feedback.


	10. Fairy Tale/Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: ‘Challenge on infinite Earths’ with a doccubus twist. 
> 
> Prompt: Fairy Tale/Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was supposed to post something for Christmas, but the ‘something’ is late so I wrote this instead. For normallyiminsane (normallyiminsane.tumblr.com) for her wonderful drawing.
> 
> I also created a ‘soundtrack’ to go with it, if you’d like. You can access it at (https://8tracks.com/chiq909/blah). I won’t have it up for long so don’t report me please -_-. 
> 
> I hope you’ll like this piece, let me know what you think! Merry Christmas to all. :)

Once upon a time, there was a wood carver named Trick. He once had a lovely family, but lost his wife, his daughter, son-in-law and his granddaughter due to a war. Despondent, he decided to spend his life carving wooden dolls and toys for children in a small town.

His shop was filled with Christmas-like orange lights, and it was the children’s favorite place to visit. And whether they bought anything from the shop, Trick always welcomed them, often with tea and sweets. So children all over town would visit Papa Trick’s and play with the numerous toys, including animals, musical instruments, little cars and wooden puppets.

One year, when it started snowing, Trick remembered how his little granddaughter loved snow and felt very lonely. He then had an idea for his latest piece - only it wasn’t a toy, but a miniature stage with an audience. On the stage he placed a hand-carved ballerina with blond hair and big brown eyes, performing the most elegant fourth arabesque.

He then carved various wooden figures for the audience, which included his friends from a long time ago as well as his granddaughter Isabeau. Trick wasn’t satisfied with just a set, so on the next day, he installed a mechanical device that could play music, and added a twirling platform beneath the ballerina.

The set took days to complete, and Papa Trick had no sweets or tea for children who went to his shop then. He then made tiny stalks of flowers and put one in the hand of each audience, and a clever little machine to control their hands. So each time the tune ended, the audience would throw their flowers on the stage, at the feet of the ballerina.

Night fell on the third day when Trick almost finished the set. He longed for a hot supper beside his fireplace, but there was one problem. Little wooden-carved Bo, being a child, did not have the ‘strength’ to get her flower to the stage. So Trick ignored his growling stomach and carved another Bo - a grown up, beautiful Bo, one he imagined would look had she survived the war.

It was near midnight when Trick placed Bo on her seat, and Trick chuckled to himself, for it was just like Bo to create mischief and trouble. As he recalled his granddaughter’s often wayward behavior, he decided to forego the flower and instead, placed a piece of fruit in Bo’s hands.

When it was all done, Trick retired to his bed and slept for two days.

And that night, the set came alive.

——-

“Hi, I’m Bo!”

“Yo, Kenzi here.”

“I’m Dyson and this is my best friend Hale!”

“I’m Ciara. What do you do, Bo?” Ciara asked.

“I don’t know…I like searching for things and solving mysteries, so I can be a detective I guess?”

“I’m a cop then.” Dyson straightened and puffed. Hale wanted to be a musician, Kenzi said she wanted to remain ‘free’, and so it went.

Two days later, the fully rested Trick prepared tea and sweets for the visiting children. The kids gathered around him as he unveiled his latest creation, and looked at the set in awe. Smiling, Trick winded up the music and the children watched, fascinated, at the dancing ballerina and clapped when the audience threw their flowers at the danseuse’s feet.

“Oh Papa Trick, do it again! Please, play it again!”

And Trick would oblige every time.

The set attracted the attention of the adults as well, who marvelled at the intricacy, the workmanship and the clever machinery that propelled the audience’s arms. Many asked Trick to name a price, but the old toy-maker refused, for he wanted his friends and Isabeau to stay close.

It was the talk of the town for weeks, and every day, the ballerina danced, the audience watched and gave their applause. And every night, when the streets were quiet, when the townfolk was in bed, the shop would be pitch dark – save for a light that appeared over the set.

The figurines talked, ran around, played and sometimes got too loud until Mayer, the rich old man in the front seat yelled at them to be quiet. One day, Dyson started an argument by saying he wanted to be a wolf as well.

“No, you’re not! The best you are is a mutt,” Tamsin said.

“I can be anything I want to be!”

“No, you can’t! So can we then, and I want to be the angel of death where I kill you!”

In the midst of the fight, Kenzi noticed that Bo had been strangely quiet. She looked at her best friend, who wasn’t even paying attention to them, but focusing her gaze on the ballerina instead.

“Earth to Bo!” Kenzi called out with her strange slang, which she said was “street speak”. “Why do you keep staring at Miss Hoity-totty?”

“She’s very pretty,” Bo said, without turning. “But she never talks or moves…I wonder what her story is.”

And for days, Bo continued to look at the ballerina and cringed every time she had to throw an apple to the stage instead of a flower like everyone else. As much as Kenzi pushed her to speak to the danseuse, Bo declined – until the ballerina cried one night.

Bo finally gathered the courage to climb on to the stage, slowly approaching the ballerina. The gang watched with interest as she waved softly and handed her a handkerchief – one she asked Kenzi to ‘borrow’ from rich man Mayer’s pocket.

“Oh, hello.” The danseuse said, surprised.

“Hi. My name’s Bo.” Bo returned the greeting. “Why are you crying? Are you hurt?”

“Oh, no. I think I’m just a bit tired,” the ballerina replied, wiping her cheeks.

“You should rest then. Can you get off this round thing?”

“I’ve never tried.”

“I’ll help you.” Bo held the ballerina’s arms as she tried to walk. They succeeded and Bo led her gently to the edge of the stage, where they sat.

“What’s your name?” Bo asked.

“I’m afraid I don’t have one,” the danseuse said. “Our maker didn’t give me one when he created me.”

“Mmm…how about Lauren? When he made me, I heard him say I had a friend named Lauren.”

“Lauren,” the ballerina repeated softly. “It sounds nice.”

“Lauren it is then,” Bo said with a smile. “I was afraid you were crying because of the apple. I can’t help it…I don’t know why the maker make me do this.”

“That’s okay,” Lauren replied. “It was unusual at first, but it was a little funny, and the red stands out from all the yellow flowers.”

“That’s good to know, just…don’t eat it,” Bo whispered and the ballerina laughed. “I just wanted to tell you…I like your dancing very much. You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Lauren blushed. “So…what do you do?”

And so began the friendship of the detective and the ballerina. Bo introduced Lauren to the gang soon after, but on most nights, she sat on the stage to chat with the danseuse.

“Dyson once said he wanted to be a wolf as well as a cop and nobody agreed.” Bo laughed as she recounted the tale to Lauren.

“Hmm…that’s an interesting idea though,” Lauren said. “If you could be something else, what would you choose?”

“Oh…I haven’t really thought about it.” Bo tilted her head and pondered. “I don’t think there’s much I can do. What about you?”

“I’m not sure either,” Lauren said, swinging her feet. “I only know how to dance, I’m afraid.”

“But you dance beautifully. I, on the other hand, probably have two left feet.”

“It’s not that hard,” Lauren reassured her. “I can teach you, if you’d like?”

“That would be fun, but wouldn’t you be tired, having to dance day and night?”

“We don’t have to do ballet – I can teach you to waltz. It’s one of my favourite dances.”

Bo nodded shyly, and much to the chagrin of Lauren’s feet, or the pleasure of the gang, the danseuse guided the detective on the stage, step by step, every night.

“Oh Lauren, your poor feet!” Bo lamented, tenderly rubbing Lauren’s slightly bruised foot. “I’m so sorry I’m such as ogre!” She heard giggles behind the curtains and shot a glare at the prying eyes.

“It’s okay, Bo,” Lauren said encouragingly. “You’re getting very good at it.”

“You really think so?” Bo perked up. “When do you think we can do a full waltz?”

“Soon – even Mayer thinks you’re improving.” Lauren grinned and nodded at the rich old man who pretended to be asleep.

“Mayer? He’s always so grumpy.” Bo recalled all the times he yelled at the gang.

“He’s harmless,” Lauren said. “Now, that witch up there, however, is another story.”

“What witch?”

“The one on the top shelf who’s always watching us,” Lauren whispered. “She’s not looking now, so take a quick peek.”

“Oh wow, she does look a bit scary.” Bo lowered her voice. “How come we haven’t noticed her before?”

“You can’t see her from your seats,” Lauren said. “I see her sometimes, and she’s mean to the other toys. Her and that toy that looks a bit like a bat.”

“Okay, I’ll keep an eye on her. But don’t worry, I’ll protect you if anything happens,” Bo said gallantly.

“Hmm, we’ll see,” Lauren teased and nudged her gently. “But before that, we have to get your footwork correct.”

“Oh, of course!” Bo jumped to her feet and bowed. “Milady, may I have this dance?”

And on they went, step by step, from dawn till dusk.

——-

Christmas was fast approaching, and people from near and far came to Trick’s shop for toys. One by one, the wooden toys disappeared from the shelves, and Trick worked hard to make more. Nobody wanted to buy the mean looking witch or bat, however, so they started looking for other toys to torment.

This was bad news for the set, for they had no means to defend themselves. Bo and Lauren had less time to practice as they had to run and hide whenever the witch – now known as The Morrigan – swooped down with her broom. This also made it difficult for Bo to plan her Christmas surprise for Lauren, so she had to ask the gang for their help.

“Can you help me carve a red rose? I’d really like to give Lauren something apart from an apple,” Bo asked.

“Sap,” Tamsin sneered, “even if we could do it, wouldn’t the maker notice the difference?”

“Hey, don’t harsh on my bestie’s buzz,” Kenzi said in her funny ‘street speak’ again. “In fact, what else do we have to do except for sit on our asses?”

“For one, we have to run from The Morrigan and The Bat, who are treating us like target practice,” Ciara warned. “But….” She backtracked when Bo appealed to her with puppy eyes. “I suppose it could be done.” 

“Thanks!” Bo grabbed Ciara and twirled her around the set.

“Woah, Bo,” Ciara laughed. “Slow down! I said we’d try, no promises! But my, you _have_ improved. I imagine it will be a sight when you and Lauren give us a performance.”

“Thank ye kindly, ma’am.” Bo bowed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to see to a lady for that performance.”

With that, she ran off to meet Lauren and the gang started to work on the red rose. Things progressed quite nicely, until one unfortunate day.

“Where’s your ballerina?” The Morrigan called out. “I’ve come to take her with me!”

“Go away!” Dyson yelled from behind the curtains. “What do you want with Lauren anyway? You barely know her!”

“Au contraire, my friend.” The witch cackled. “I’ve been watching her since that old man made this set, and I want her to dance for me on the shelf. This one will be twirling for me forever and ever.”

“No!” Bo rushed to the stage. “You’re not taking her! I’ll fight you for it.”

“You?” At this, the witch pointed at Bo and had a hearty laugh. “You little thing? I’ll break you into pieces and leave them in a puddle before you say your next word.”

“You can try,” Bo walked forward.

As soon as The Morrigan stepped off her broom to meet Bo’s challenge, the danseuse ran to them.

“Bo, don’t!”

“Lauren, go back to the gang,” Bo shielded Lauren, keeping her eyes on The Morrigan. “I’ll handle this.”

Just then, The Bat swooped down in front of Bo, knocking her to the floor. As The Morrigan grabbed the ballerina by her arm and got on her broom, the gang ran to the stage to stop the witch and knocked over The Bat.

At this, Bo ran forward and caught Lauren’s leg just before the witch flew off.

“You think that can stop me? We’ll see about that!” Already off the stage, the witch started a tug of war with Bo. Just as she was about to lose, Bo gave Lauren’s leg a hard yank and the ballerina’s arm slipped from The Morrigan’s grasp.

Lauren fell on top of Bo and the others rushed to keep The Morrigan and The Bat away. Outnumbered, they flew back to their shelves reluctantly, and Bo checked on Lauren. To her horror, Lauren was missing a leg – the very one that Bo was tugging.

“Find her leg, quick!” Old Mayer said, and the gang scrambled to look for it. Once they did, they tried all the possible ways to reattach it, with Bo reassuring Lauren that they would find a way to fix things. However, as the hours went by, they knew that there was nothing they could do with the broken ballerina.

“Don’t panic, Bo,” Lauren said, stroking Bo’s arm. “The maker will make a new danseuse, and you can dance with her.”

“But I don’t want another danseuse, Lauren,” Bo shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. “I want you.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Lauren said. “Thank you for talking to me and for being my friend. It was lonely on the stage, so I really enjoyed my time with you.”

“I’m not your friend! Look at me, I’ve made things worse. I said I’d protect you, but I ended up destroying you…your leg. I’m no better than that witch. I’m a monster.”

“Bo!” Lauren reached for her shoulders and gave her a light shake. “Bo, you’re not a monster. Whatever happened just then, it wasn’t your fault.”

Seeing that Bo was about to argue further, she added, “Just give me a hug and stay with me for a little while, okay?”

Bo nodded quietly and held Lauren’s hand while the danseuse fell into a deep sleep. She refused to leave her side until the other toys had to pull her away, for the sun was rising.

When Trick came downstairs to the shop that morning, the toys hoped that he would leave the set alone, as he had for the last weeks due to the Christmas rush. But fate had it that the toy maker had to look for something on the display window.

“Hmm. What do we have here?” He picked up the tiny ballerina and looked closely at the ‘injury’. Without a word, he took the figurine away with him to his workshop, and only resurfaced when there were visitors, and when he locked the store in the evening.

It was a very quiet night on the set. The gang huddled around Bo, telling her Trick might fix Lauren, and Bo only responded by pointing at the torn off leg. They fell silent, and even Old Mayer and his adopted granddaughter Cassie came to pat Bo on the back, shaking their heads when they left. The Morrigan and The Bat wisely chose to stay away that night, and eventually the figurines returned to their seats long before the sun rose.

The red rose, finished the night The Morrigan visited, stayed in Bo’s pocket. For the next few nights, the set no longer lit up at dusk, and the snow-covered street cold and dark.

——-

“Bo, come on, it’s Christmas eve tomorrow!” Kenzi pulled Bo’s hands. “We miss you – you have to come celebrate with us.”

“What’s there to celebrate, Kenz?” Bo sighed, rolling the apple in her hands. “Lauren’s gone.”

“Maybe she’ll be back! Maybe the maker will fix her!”

“Her leg is still here, Kenzi,” Bo said. “If the maker wanted to, he would have looked around for it.”

“Oh,” the younger girl said. “Well, if you want to join us, we’ll be in our usual spot tomorrow night. We’re thinking of asking Old Mayer too.”

“Sure, Kenz, I promise I’ll think about it.” It was as empty as she felt.

The next day, the shop was almost empty of toys, including The Morrigan and The Bat. Tired and stressed out parents went in for last minute gifts, and by nightfall, Trick was almost as tired and stressed out as they were. He brightened at the thought of having supper with a nice lady in town, and went upstairs to wash up.

As he was about to leave the store, he remembered something and went back to his workshop. When he came out, he placed a figurine on the set and patted its head, whistling as he walked through the door.

“Lauren?”

“Bo! I thought I’d never see you again!” The danseuse held Bo’s hand, beckoning her to go closer. “Look at my new leg!”

“Wow, Lauren, I thought you were gone for good!” Bo said. “How’s your new leg? Does it work as well as the old one?”

Lauren smiled and said, “I have an idea.”

And on the night before Christmas, for the first time, the audience stayed in their seats at dusk instead of running around. Once the music started, the detective and the ballerina danced across the stage and performed the most beautiful waltz. Nobody could tell that the detective once had two left feet, or that the danseuse once had her leg broken.

Once they finished the first dance, the audience gave them a standing ovation and as always, threw their flowers at the feet of the dancer - now dancers. The apple was missing from the pile this time, and Bo presented her red rose to Lauren with a bow.

And on and on they danced, past Christmas, Boxing Day and the New Year.

“Lauren?” Bo asked as they were about to finish one night.

“Yes, Bo?”

“I love you…all.”

“All?” Lauren asked, confused.

“Oh. I meant I love you and all your parts – the old, new, broken and whole.”

“Why, Bo, I…Bo?” A glimmer of recognition appeared in Lauren’s eyes.

“...Lauren?”

The spell breaks.


	11. School/College

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews/comments most welcome, and would be much appreciated :)

After the third guy nearly pukes on her, Bo Dennis is ready to scream and drag Kenzi back to their dorm. Coming from a conservative home, she did have a lot of fun at her first freshmen party, but that was two weeks back and this was their ninth venture.

She fidgets in her new clothes, almost regretting trading her comfortable flannel shirts and jeans for tight leather. She felt a bit insulted at Kenzi's insistence on changing her wardrobe at first, but she's since admitted – grudgingly – that she looks great in leather.

Loud cheers interrupt her thoughts and she knows Kenzi's beating everyone at beer bong again. At least someone's having fun, she sips her beer morosely as she looks around the room. Her eyes linger at a fair hair stranger sitting on a couch, and she feels that her day is finally getting better. They'd certainly be a complete change from Kyle, her high school boyfriend who dumped her right after…that night.

She takes a deep breath and walks towards the couch.

x

"Hi."

Lauren Lewis looks up from her phone and is transfixed by the stranger's eyes. She returns the greeting, and when they smile at each other, she's glad she came to this party.

"Lame party, huh?" The girl plops down on the couch, handing her a beer.

"Uh…" Used to keeping her opinions to herself, she stalls on her answer. When the girl lifts an eyebrow, she decides to talk about something else. "That girl over there sure can hold her liquor. It's a wonder how someone so small can drink so much – it'd be fascinating to study her rate of alcohol metabolism."

She realizes she's been geeking out again as soon as the other girl laughs, and she ducks her head ruefully, silently cursing her awkward social skills.

"Hey, I'm sorry," a warm hand touches her arm. "I wasn't laughing at you. It's just that…you're cute. Let me guess – science major? Probably pre-med?"

She nods with a blush.

"I've got an idea," the stranger says. "Wanna go on a torchlight tour and explore the labs? Y'know, your future homes?"

Lauren tries to stop her grin from widening further, but she has a feeling that it's a lost cause. "S-sure. But uh…"

The girl's already up from the couch, her hand extended, waiting for Lauren's. "But what?"

"I never got your name."

"Oh, is that it?" The girl teased. "It's Nadia. Shall we blow this joint now?"

She smiles and takes Nadia's hand. As they walk out of the room, they giggle at a leather clad couple who's getting hot and heavy on another couch.

"I heard that his name's Dyson," Nadia whispers. "Guess he kisses like the vacuum cleaner too."

* * *

"Poor Kenzi."

"Says her best friend who's sitting here sipping on a Long Island Tea."

"Hey, it's not my fault she went into debt for all those shoes," Bo protests. "I tried to hold her back but she didn't listen, so I guess she's meant to learn her lesson the hard way."

"Well, we do have to thank her – without her friends here, we wouldn't have been able to experience the life of the filthy rich." Dyson grins and raises his glass.

"Why, you may be right, my darling husband," she drawls and leans in for a kiss. "We're such naturals at playing a young married couple, aren't we?"

"Ahem." The couple look up to see a man grinning at them. "I'm Mitch – the owner of this club. Mind if I join you?

Shit. They didn't expect the club owner to visit the pool area, but before they can say anything, Mitch waves his hand. "Don't worry about it. We're supposed to be very strict with who gets in, but I'd be most happy to make an exception for you."

"Oh." They responded in unison.

"Don't mind the fuddies duddies around here – most of us are pretty open-minded and have a very inclusiveapproach," Mitch helps himself to the wine and leans towards Bo. "It's what yuppies are into today, right?"

"Uh…" She was still recovering from the fear of getting Kenzi into trouble. "What do you mean?"

"What I mean," he was definitely veering very close to her now. "What I mean is we can offer you more experiences, to expand your horizons, so to speak."

"My wife over there," he points to a close by table, "and some of our friends – men and women – would like to give you your own welcome party tonight. One with many happy endings, if you catch my drift?"

Bo's eyes widen at the proposition. "We uh…we didn't realize."

"Oh, I did," Mitch replies with a wink. "We knew right away you're our kind of couple."

She's curious and definitely interested. Her experiences have broadened widely since she went to college, and she's keen to broaden 'em some more. Eager to say yes, she turns to Dyson – only to see his cheeks redden with anger.

"Unfortunately I have a uh…an early morning. Maybe another time." He storms off with that, and Bo sits in shock for a second before she gets up hastily. She bumps into someone's chair, and mutters a quick apology as she runs after him.

x

"How rude." A middle-aged woman sitting at the table complains as she gestures to the waiting staff for help. "Dearie, I told you this club is going to pieces. They just let anyone in nowadays."

"Mom, it's okay." Lauren's too focused on wiping juice off her shirt to roll her eyes at her mother's typical commentary.

"Well, darling, come to think of it, that shirt doesn't fit you anyway. Maybe that girl did you a favor."

"Mother," Lauren says, exasperated.

"Lauren," her mother imitates her tone. "I mean, really, as a Lewis, the least you could do is dress like one. Isn't your brother absolutely dashing in his suit? Maybe we should pick you a new shirt later to match the necklace. It does look exquisite."

"Yeah, he's perfect," Lauren mutters. Deciding not to bother, she throws the serviettes on to the table and leans back on her chair. "He can change the world, we know."

She feels her brother squeezing her hand, and returns his quick wink with a resigned smile. They haven't been in touch as frequently, and he's been a little cagey lately, so seeing him again is worth putting up with her mother's antics and comments – even if it's her birthday. She touches the necklace and mouths a "thank you" to him.

"Now now, there's no need for that kind of talk. All I'm saying is you don't have to actually dress like a broke college student just because you're pre-med…"

Years of training enable Lauren to tune out her mother's ramblings, and she nods on autopilot while she her eyes glance around the area. Something next to her chair catches her eye, and she picks it up from the ground. It's another necklace, only this is attached to a labrys instead of a pendant.

"Be right back." Ignoring her mother's protests, she runs to where the girl headed, putting her track experience to good use.

All she found at the parking lot were cars. The valet didn't have any recollection of the girl who ran passed them, and Lauren was unable to give him any information beyond 'brown hair' and 'running'. She looks at the back of the necklace to search for a name or a number.

Ysabeau.

She's not sure she trusts the Lost and Found staff to handle something this personal, and leaves her number at the desk instead

* * *

"Bo, it's graduation prom! You should definitely splurge on a new one." Kenzi half-drags her best friend to the boutique.

"Kenzi, prom is so high school – this is just an excuse for college students to have another party while they can," Bo responds. "Also, did you forget the last time we went on a shopping spree? You had to work the entire summer at the club, and – "

She doesn't finish the sentence. Although the country club 'mishap' happened a year ago, she couldn't forget what Dyson said in the argument, and things fell apart gradually afterwards.

It wasn't the only thing she lost. She never found her necklace either, despite spending hours on her knees, wet and cold, to search for it. The snooty staff at the Lost and Found desk was just as unhelpful, citing that they simply didn't have the resources to help non-members.

"Earth to Bobo," Kenzi waves at her. "Don't think about that D-man no more. You were right to end things – man, who'd have thunk he'd become such a broody stalker?"

"Yeah." Bo scrunched her nose. "The mate for life speech sounded like a Jungle Jeeves episode, too."

"Well, at least we know Ryan's not going to do that. You're going to have so much fun withhim, which is why we need to glam you up, gurl!" Kenzi points to a mannequin on the window.

And screams.

"What, Kenzi, What?" Bo looks at the window. "Oh."

She suppresses a laugh at her best friend's face, which had frozen in a silent scream, much like in a poster of a horror movie.

"Kenzi, come on," she gives her a light shake. "There was no way I could have afforded that dress, and you know it." She wisely decides to not mention that she's seen the dress before Kenzi did, and that she's visited the store several times to look at it.

"No!" Kenzi snatches her hands away from Bo's. "It's not okay! That dress was wonderful! It was spectacular! It was going to be your new start to, to…they must have a spare. They probably pulled it off the mannequin. Yes, they must.

"I'm going in."

Moments later, Bo thanks whatever higher power that she's in good shape. If she hadn't been strong enough to hold Kenzi back, her best friend would have been arrested for attempted murder (via strangulation). And they would have been in the police station, talking to some delinquent named Sylvie, instead of browsing in the store.

She isn't sure if it's pity or fear that made the owner offer them a discount on the other dresses, but she's not going to question it, since Kenzi seems slightly mollified.

And when her best friend dumps a pile of clothes into her arms, she plays her part in keeping her best friend calm by nodding and heading straight to the dressing room.

x

"Excuse me?"

"Oh – hello, dear. How can I help you today?"

"I'd like to return this, please." Lauren says as she places a red dress on the counter.

"This?" The owner looks at it and adjusts her glasses. "Why, is there a problem with it?"

"No, I just…don't need it anymore, thank you."

"Alright, miss. Let me look at the receipt. Oh, dear. I'm afraid it's over the return period by weeks. Are you sure there isn't anything we can do about it? I can adjust it for free, if that's what – "

"No. I mean, no, thank you. The dress is perfect."

And it is. Lauren had bought the dress the first time she saw it, thinking it would be great on Nadia. But a few days before she could surprise her girlfriend with it, she came back to an apartment filled with packed boxes and suitcases.

Nadia was sitting on the couch in the dark, and Lauren remembers how she resembled a statue. In tears, her now ex-girlfriend said she felt like she'd been in a dream for years, and now that she'd 'woken up', she barely knew herself – or Lauren.

After a soft kiss goodbye, Nadia left to find herself, and Lauren was left with a broken heart.

Three weeks after their break up, the dress is still perfect –Lauren's just sick of looking at it. She'd put it in the wardrobe at first, and had to move it to the study when she had to pack up her bedroom. She then had to place it into the closet when she packed the study, and on it on it went.

And now that everything of hers is in boxes and suitcases, it has nowhere else to go.

"Look, don't worry about the refund," she tells the owner. "If anyone wants it, it's theirs."

"That's terribly kind of you, young miss. In fact, there's a lady in the dressing room who was just looking for it. Why don't you wait a bit? You can see whose day you just made."

Before she could decline, the owner had already moved towards the dressing room, and Lauren sees a lithe girl grab the dress, squeal, and perform a rain dance of some sort. She smiles and leans on the counter – a 'mood booster' might be good for her after all.

A few minutes later, a brunette steps out with the red dress, and Lauren finds herself holding her breath. Before she steps forward, however, her phone rings.

She slides her thumb on the screen and greets the caller distractedly, keeping her eyes on the girl.

It's…

x

"Perfect." Startled, Bo turns around.

"I'm sorry, m'dear," the owner apologizes. "I just wanted to tell you that if you want this dress, it's yours."

"What? You mean it's mine if I decide to buy it?"

"No, miss – you don't have to pay anything. It's yours, free of charge."

"Why?" She thinks she hears Kenzi gasp and fall to the floor at the back, but ignores it.

"Someone requested that we gift it to whoever who wants it," the owner replies. "And if you don't mind me saying, it's perfect on you.

"In fact, the kind girl's just – oh. She seems to have left. She was standing right there just a second ago, maybe you can catch her…"

Bo rushes out of the store and looks up and down the street. She spots a blonde further down the sidewalk, but before she can chase after her, the woman steps into a cab and they speed off.

"Did you see her?" Kenzi asks when she returns.

"No." The car was too far ahead for her to see anything clearly.

On their way out, Bo picks up something on the steps – it's a necklace with a pendant that resembles a sun, and the owner says it doesn't belong to the store. No, she doesn't have any information on the blonde either – the girl had paid cash for the dress.

Bo leaves her number with the owner.

When she shows Kenzi the necklace later, the girl whistles and says it's no wonder the blond chick could afford to give away that dress.

* * *

"You would have killed at a medical drama, Dr Lewis. Just like I killed at my residency at Mass Gen."

Lauren looks up to see Evony Marquise, also called The Morrigan in the hospital for unknown reasons, walking towards her.

"What do you want?"

"Well, I thought I'd come over and feed you." The other doctor places a six pack of beer and a pizza on the bench. "But clearly, we have something more pressing to work on."

"I won't do it, Evony," Lauren waves off the offered plate and bottle. "Cheating on a clinical trial – that's typical Taft callousness."

"Oh, the hubris of young, idealistic doctors." The Morrigan rolls her eyes and pushes the drink into her protégé's hand. "It's been done before – it's not all bad."

"Excuse me? Although I'm very proud of my profession, I don't have to agree with all the methods of my superiors."

"Could your principles be any more outdated? The competition for research funds is stiffer and stiffer – once we get the grant, we'll just be more careful in the next phase."

"It's disgusting." Lauren shakes her head firmly. "I won't do it, and you can't make me."

The Morrigan senses that it's going to take more than a pizza, a few beers, and a guaranteed fellowship at a prestigious hospital. She sets the food and drinks aside, sighs, and joins Lauren on the floor – after covering her spot with serviettes.

"Look, I know what happened with your brother," she says softly and pats Lauren's leg. "You don't have to do anything that you don't want to."

"You're damn right I don't." Lauren looks away. Years have passed since she received a call from her mother – crying that he's been involved in some sort of pipe bombing incident – and they still haven't found him.

When the family spoke to the authorities, everything about her brother's behavior in the past months made sense to Lauren. The elder Lewis's spent an obscene amount of money to cover it up, and Lauren was the only Lewis left to carry on the family name. She hasn't left the state since, choosing to pursue her medical degree, internship, and residency in the same area.

On good days, she dreams of her brother coming home and proving his innocence. Things would return to normal and she'd be free to live her own life. She'd join Doctors Without Borders, travel to places such as Afghanistan and The Congo to help others, and maybe even meet someone there.

On bad days, especially when she has to attend family or business functions with her parents, she'd reach for her neck unconsciously, as if to remove some invisible collar. Then she'd remember that she'd carelessly lost her last birthday gift from her brother. After things had settled down, what she found in her suitcase, instead, was the necklace that she'd pick up at the country club.

And whether they were good and bad days, she'd drink more than she should, and resist the urge to scream at her brother's ghost. Mostly, she weeps.

"Hey." The Morrigan's cool hand on hers breaks her out of her reverie. "I meant it. You don't have to do anything that you don't want to. I just want you to be the best."

Lauren didn't grow up in the Lewis household for nothing. She knows exactly what those words mean.

"Oh, okay," she removes Evony's hand and gets up. "And morals? Ethics?"

"Overrated! But if they're important to you, I can respect that."

"It's just that Taft and your parents might not," The Morrigan adds casually, and Lauren stops walking.

"What are you…"

"Taft wants to see you, Lauren. He thinks that he can do a better job at convincing you."

x

A few hours and several shouting matches later, the doctor's clearing out her locker.

"Judging from all the noise coming from Taft's room, I assume you had the talk?" Evony asks.

"So you knew then." Lauren turns away from the locker at stares at her supervisor.

"About what? That you're brilliant? Of course I have, Dr…"

"Evony." Lauren shuts her eyes and grits her teeth. "Don't play games. You knew."

"I did."

"This is such Lewis family bullshit!" She yanks the stethoscope from her neck and flings it on the ground. The Morrigan, taken aback, steps back.

"I'm sorry," Lauren apologizes. "It's just…I could have excelled on my own merit, and I can't believe my parents would agree that…"at all cost"! It's all a ploy to make sure my career advances, at all cost! The early and easy acceptance, all those awards…all they care about is protecting the family name!"

"Lauren, if you're about to do what I think you are, don't," Evony says. "Go away for a few days to cool off – and if you feel this strongly about the trial, just withdraw yourself."

"No. I'm done." She slams her locker shut, and walks out of the hospital.

Her curious colleagues watch her get into her car, and before someone can ask what happened, the hospital doors swing open.

"Help! Someone help my mother, please!" A distraught brunette, carrying an elderly woman in her arms, cries out.

"Someone get a gurney!" A doctor rushes to her side. "Ma'am, we've got her. What happened?"

"I – I don't know! We were taking a tour of the town, and some lunatic lunged at us, and my mother, she, she stepped in front of me and got stabbed!"

* * *

It was all for nothing. Once, she could never stop thinking about who her father was, and what he looked like. Now, as much as she wants to, she can never get his face out of her mind – especially since he graces the cover of business magazines frequently.

The doctors managed to save her mother, and Aoife recovered smoothly, but it came with a hefty hospital bill. Bo was happy to pay it in installments, but then a blond chick with a tough girl attitude showed up, saying her 'boss' had heard about the stabbing and was happy to take care of the finances.

And if Bo didn't mind, he'd very much like to meet his long lost daughter.

Aoife warned her against it, but Bo paid no heed to her mother's caution. After spending two weeks and having all her ideals about her real father crushed, she rejected his job offer, even if it came with a lucrative salary and a plushy corner room at the high rise. She couldn't leave the smoggy and stuffy city soon enough, and the only highlight of the trip was meeting a business associate of her dad's on the ride home.

She steps off the train with a sigh and heads to the bus station. If there aren't any delays, she'd be home for dinner, and maybe Kenzi's finally learned how to order something other than pizza.

"Bo?"

"…Dyson? You look…different." On a closer look, he hasn't really changed – she just didn't expect him to age that much.

"Well, you look great," Dyson replies with a grin. "What are you doing here?"

"Just a transfer – I'm heading home. And you?"

"Had to take care of some business, but I'm done. I can give you a lift home."

She pauses, uncertain if exes should be in an enclosed space for that long.

"Bo?" Already ahead of her, Dyson stops and waves his hand. "C'mon, it's a long drive and I could use the company. Plus, it'll be fun to catch up."

O-kay, if you put it that way. "Sure, but on one condition – lunch is on me. I'm famished."

"Great. I know a place close by."

Dyson pulls up at a diner, and they see an ambulance parked at the front.

"Hey man, what happened?"

"A guy choked on a piece of food, and some doctor performed a tracheotomy on him." The paramedic shuts the door and prepares to drive off. "He's lucky she was around – would have been dead otherwise."

"Wow. Guess we missed some pretty spectacular surgery," Bo says. "Are you sure it's safe to eat here?"

"Guess we'll find out," Dyson says as he holds the door open for her.

A harassed looking waitress walks up to the couple before they have a chance to pick a table. "Are you here to eat or to watch?" she asks.

"Woah," Bo holds up her hands and peers at the nametag. "We come in peace, Crystal."

"Alright," the waitress responds grumpily. "Seat yourselves wherever you want."

"Geez," Bo huffs and brush some crumbs off the table. "I hope it wasn't her attitude that caused the choking."

"Don't worry, I'll help you out if it happens," Dyson jokes. "After all, I do know your neck pretty…hmm."

"Pretty hmm?" She asks, her attention on the menu instead of on Dyson.

"What happened to your necklace?" he asks.

"What do you mean?"

"The one you always used to wear," he says. "I've never seen you take it off."

"Oh, that." Bo rubs her neck. "I lost it a while ago."

"Pity – it was pretty," Dyson replies. "Wasn't it a family heirloom or something?"

"Yeah. I never told me grandfather about it." And if she has her way, she never will. To this day, she doesn't know if Trick was joking when he told her how the family got the necklace.

"Ya'll ready to order?" Crystal the waitress is back, and still as grumpy. "I don't got all day."

"Hey Crystal," another woman's voice calls out. "Why don't you take a break? I can take it from here."

"I'm sorry, guys," the new waitress says once she gets to the table. "She's having a hard day, with all the commotion, is all."

"Yeah well, you would be havin' a hard day too, if they just up and left you like that." Crystal responds as she rearranges condiments angrily on a nearby counter.

"Cool it, girl – you're just bitter that she didn't want any of your sugar."

"Oh sure, I'm good for drunken, heart to heart sessions about 'bad shit to forget'", Crystal retorts and slams the salt and pepper shakers. Bo can see salt and pepper escaping into the air from the impact, and covers her nose discreetly. "But I'm not good enough when she wants to head back to the city to become some big shot doctor again."

"Wait. You mean the one who saved the – oof," Dyson receives a swift kick to his foot and clams up at a death stare from Bo.

Nobody says anything for a few seconds, and Crystal starts to sob, drawing stares from everyone in the diner.

"You know what?" Bo says brightly. "I just remembered that we left something at home, so we'll have to grab something on the way. Thanks for everything, though!"

x

"I don't see why we had to leave." Dyson sulks as they pull out of the parking lot.

"Jesus, Dyson," Bo chides. "After you rubbed it in like that, I'm sure as hell not staying to find out what they do to our food."

"What? How was I supposed to know?"

She lets out an exasperated sigh and leans back on her seat as he goes into a defensive tirade.

"Dyson, wait," she touches his arm but there's no response.

"Dyson!"

"What?" He slows down and stops the car, looking at her as if she's gone mad.

"Didn't you see the car and the woman on the side of the road? We should stop and see if they need help."

"Oh, Bo." Dyson rolls his eyes and reignites the car. "Whoever it is can fix their own flat tire."

Bo stares at him and remembers all the reasons she never stayed friends after their break up.

"Why aren't you the most chivalrous and noble guy that I've ever met." She opens the door, steps out, and walks off without waiting for a response.

"Hey," she calls out to the woman and crosses the road. "Is everything alright?"

"Hey," the woman waves at her, scratching her head with her other hand. "I uh…have no idea what's going on. It was working fine until it wasn't."

"Okay. I own a temperamental Camaro myself, so I'm probably not the best person to touch it," Bo says. "I can ring for a tow truck and keep you company, if that helps?"

"That sounds great," the blonde smiles and holds out her hand, and Bo has the strangest feeling. "My name's Lauren."

"I'm Bo. I mean, it's Ysabeau, but everyone calls me Bo."

"Ysa – Bo?" Lauren repeats and scrunches her eyebrow, deep in thought. "Bo, Bo, Bo…"

"Bo! I remember." The blonde reaches into her bag and retrieves something.

She holds it in front of Bo questioningly, and Bo's eyes widen.

This belonged to your ancestor who was a warrior. According to her diary, it was from a healer who was always by her side.

The spell breaks.


	12. Mythical creature (Lauren Lewis is Death) Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My longest Infinite Earths chapter so far, so I've divided it into three parts. Hope you enjoy it - let me know what you think!

It’s the best feeling in the world; it’s the worst feeling in the world.

She’s been in this spot for more times than she can remember. Even when barely conscious, she can see the broken glass and blood, hear the pitter patter of rat feet as the vermin run across her feet, and of course – make out the stench of death.

But this time, things are going to end differently – she knows it. With half closed eyes, she watches the familiar figure hover around, and as soon as they walk by, she musters all her strength – and grabs.

The figure turns to look at her, a little surprised that she can move. Holding their arm in a firm grip, she croaks in a voice she barely recognizes: “Take me too”.

They sigh – she senses it’s out of annoyance more than anything else, shakes her hand off, and says, “It’s not your time yet, succubus”.

The voice – a woman’s – wakes her from her stupor, and she sits up.

“Wait! You know what I am?”

The other woman stops at the end of the alley, but doesn’t look at her. “I’ve seen you enough times.” 

“Then you know that nobody tells me no,” she growls, her eyes turning blue as she gets up and walks towards her, “ever”.

She hears that infuriating sigh again, followed by the response “Are we done here?”

“I don’t know,” Bo answers and holds their hands together. She notices they’re cool to touch, and ramps up the power of her pulse. She can afford it – after all, she’s just fed. “Why don’t we finish this nicely? Would you like that?”

The woman throws her head back and laughs, her hood falling to her shoulders, but instead of worrying that her powers aren’t working, Bo is enraptured by the face, the voice, and the hair. “I’m afraid you’ll have to try harder, succubus.”

“Oh yeah?” She clutches the woman’s shoulders, steers her to a wall and leans forward. Heady with a new high that comes from being challenged, anger, and lust, she knows that this is going to be good. “Tell me if this is hard enough.”

Their lips touch, and she proceeds with what she does best, what she’s done for two hundred years, and what she just did half an hour ago in this alley.

“What…”

_This can’t be right._

She tries again and again. Soon enough, she finds herself going from a suave and powerful succubus to a fumbling teenage boy on a second date.

“Oh, please.” The other woman pushes the succubus off lightly. She frowns at the newly formed creases on her cloak, and walks away, distracted. “I know you’re unconscious half the time, but surely you know that you can’t suck chi from Death.”

The rush of blood from shock and embarrassment may have warped her hearing, but Bo swears that she heard the woman say “from the dead” instead.

And as a fae who’s lived for two centuries, she knows her fae 411, and is certain that there’s a huge difference between being Death and being dead.

\---

Strangely enough, Bo’s brush with Death curbed her long-running urge to join her victims. Death, on the other hand, seems to be avoiding a repeat of the incident – since their encounter, instead of lingering in the ‘crime scene’, she leaves right before the succubus comes to her senses.

After several failed attempts, Bo realizes that this is no run-of-the-mill fae or the type of criminal mastermind that she used to hunt. To regain her wits, she stops going for the frequent cheap highs of murderers and rapists, and focuses on finding fae that stray into her area. She also dusts off her fake IDs to sign up for the gym (and nearly had a lapse when a personal trainer got too close).

Her old days of chasing prey return to her – she’s eating right, training hard and re-honing her instincts. But how can she catch someone who only appears when she’s in a stupor, and who’s also immune to her ‘charms’?

The answer comes on her third day of meditation and she grins.

“Ma’am, can I help you?”

“Ma’am, you can’t be here!”

“Ugh!” Sensing the return of her bad habits, Bo takes a few deep breaths and slows down. “Okay, I’m backing off, see? No need to call security.”

The nurse places the phone down, but keeps a tight grip on it and watches Bo warily.

“Look, I’m here to see my…relative.” Keeping her hands up, she treads slowly and softly towards the station. “I’m sorry for the commotion – I thought I was too late.”

“What’s your relative’s name?”

“He’s right here on the list – here, let me show you.”

She grabs the nurse’s hand and works her magic – but nothing more than a light pulse. Even if she’s close to being at the top of her game, she doesn’t want to risk running out prematurely.

“See? There really is no need to call for anyone,” she whispers to the lust struck nurse. “Now, we’ll need some privacy, so why don’t you take a break?”

Without another word, her victim nods, grins, and heads towards the ward.

“Not _you_.” Bo rolls her eyes and pushes the pouting nurse to the elevator. “Trust me. If you know who our guest of honor is, you’ll be thankful this is a private session.” Once the nurse is out of sight, the succubus locks the door, draws the curtains, and turns to face the room.

She mentally counts the number of patients in critical care, does some calculation, and rubs her hands together. “Ladies and gentlemen, it sure is your lucky day today.”

Starting with patient one, the succubus descends on _Erica Dowles_ and exhales. It takes a little more time than she expected, and she chalks it off to being rusty. An hour later, she’s on patient number nine, and moves to finish number ten when she feels it.

She straightens up and holds on to the bed rails to steady herself.  _Bob Parker will have to wait._

Contrary to what she’s watched in movies and television, the lights don’t flicker on and off, there are no strong gusts of wind, and everything in the room stays still.

But there she is, right in the middle of the room – cloak, hood an’ all.

“Huh,” Bo mutters. “Guess you’re not much for theatrics.”

The fury in Death’s voice, however, is unmistakable. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Funny, any other person would have nominated me for the Nobel CPR Prize, or knelt to worship me for breathing people back to life. But whatever.”

The other woman moves closer to her, and Bo wonders if she got a knock-off version of the Grim Reaper. Instead of feeling the cooling effect of being near Death, she feels hotter, somehow. Her increasing heartbeats also contrast what she’s facing a few inches away.

“You think this is all a game, don’t you?”

“Well, you don’t leave a calling card, and I know you’ve been avoiding me,” Bo says. “How else am I supposed to get your attention?”

Death’s response comes in a growl. “What do you want?”

“Take me with you.”

“I already told you, succubus. It’s not your –”

“I don’t mean _that_ way,” Bo interrupts. “I mean, where you go, and stuff. I wanna come with.” She clears her throat.

The other woman pauses – and blinks. “Why?”

The succubus smiles as she finally gets a response that isn’t delivered in an infuriated tone.

It was the deep and rich voice despite her cool hands, why she hides the glorious head of golden hair under that dark hood, and if she knows that her large brown eyes betray her expressionless face.

These were the questions that lingered in her mind, but the one that lights a fire and fuels her will to go on is how Death, despite her near immortality, can seem so fragile.

“Because.”

Death narrows her eyes, and Bo acquiesces: “Okay, okay. I was just kidding, geez.

“It’s because you and I are similar in many ways. We’ve both lived a long while – by the way, how old are you again?” Death stares right at her, and the succubus nods in her _another-day, then_ face and continues: “We both take lives. And, well, we’re both alone. I think we’d get along well.

“You understand the concept of Death, don’t you?” The other woman says. “That I’m the _grim_ reaper, not the friendly reaper and her merry band of elves?”

“What can I say?” Bo shrugs. “I’ve never taken the conventional path. Look, if you say yes, you get the company of a lovely succubus, _and_ to do your job properly.”

Death casts her a dubious look, and the succubus responds with her brightest smile.

\---

From then on, Death becomes Death-plus-one.

Bo stays closely to Death and watches in fascination as she does her job. Having lived for centuries, there aren’t many places the succubus hasn’t been, but Death’s work makes them seem different, even if Bo’s visited before.

They frequent hospitals, hospices, hotel rooms – all of which the succubus expected to go. What she didn’t see coming, however, are the treks deep into jungles, the rush to battlefields where she ducks to avoid incoming bullets, and sometimes, the stroll to a nearby basement or the bottom of a building.

It creeps her out at first – how Death just stands casually on the sidewalk and waits for the poor soul to jump. If the other woman weren’t so damn somber, Bo could picture her leaning on a pillar, flipping through a magazine or filing her nails.

In those times, she tells herself that it’s because Death, like her, has seen almost any and everything. The succubus can only guess, for she learns that Death’s preferred mode of communication is silence and the odd nod.

But she finds out something new when on one week, they have to visit a house thrice. The first night for the little girl thrown out the window, the second night for the mother who tries to run, and the final night for the abusive man who shoots himself as cops bust open his door.

Bo notices that Death only shows up after the fact for the first two lives. On those nights, she also ends her work then, checks in to some nondescript motel – something they only do after long days – and falls on to her single bed without a word.

On the third day, however, Death arrives early – and waits.

And on their way to the next job half an hour later, the other woman makes a rare comment about the weather. The succubus stares at her, and while Death doesn’t say anything else for the rest of the night, Bo knows.  

Months pass and Bo gets a better idea of their routine. It’s also when she starts to discern between Death’s work areas and locations that she just happens to visit more often. She brushes it off initially, thinking they’re just Death’s favorite places – until she starts seeing familiar faces.

Sometimes it’s a stroll by the same house, sometimes it’s a glimpse at them across the street at the traffic lights, and other times, a light shoulder bump as they walk past.

“Are they your family?” Bo asks, pouncing on the chance to improve her grades for Knowing Death 101 – she’s on an average of D minus still.

“No.”

“So they’re fair game, then? ‘Cause I’m feeling a bit peckish,” The succubus taunts.

“You try that, succubus, and I’ll end you right now.”

“Great, since I don’t mind that happening. So are you going to spill or not?”

Death answers her seven blocks down the road. “I know them.”

 _Duh_. Bo rolls her eyes and presses on. “Know them how? How come they never say hi, or more appropriately, have a restraining order on you?

More silence. She wonders if she’s ever going to learn more about Death beyond her impressive work ethic and the odd bit that Death tosses her every now and then.

“Frbfr.”

“What?”

“From before.”

It takes her a few minutes. “So they don’t recognize –”

“No.”

She looks over, and feels that she finally has a glimpse of the figure underneath that cloak and hood. Satisfied with the little insight, she stays quiet for the rest of their trip.

Then one night, right before she falls asleep, it hits her.

She sits on it for a few days, waiting for the right time to ask Death, and brings it up on a quiet day.

“Hey.” 

Death nods.

“I uh…”

“Those people. Do you – how do you know it’s them?” The cold night air in the park turns her question into vapor.

“I have my ways,” the other woman replies. The succubus knows that Death answers how-to questions more quickly and patiently, but goddamn can she _still_ kill a conversation and run a “die forever!” stake through it.

She grouches and fidgets on the bench for the next few minutes as Death stares ahead, oblivious.

“Look. If I give you a name and a description – it’s, it’s,” she stumbles, “it’s from a while ago.” She takes a deep breath and continues, “Would you be able to use your ways?”

The other woman looks at her. Even though she’s fighting tears that threaten to spill, Bo returns her stare.

“Yes.” Her tone is as soft as Bo’s when the succubus asked her question.

 


	13. Mythical creature (Lauren Lewis is Death) Part II

­They check into another nondescript motel that night.

Death is away frequently after then. The succubus roams the streets or drinks cup after cup of coffee in cafés, sneaking peeks at all the faces she sees. When she’s jittery from the caffeine high and when all the faces morph into _hers_ , Bo retreats to their motel room and tries to wear a hole in the carpet instead.

And one day, Death shows up and stays for longer than a nap. The succubus finally stops counting sheep on the ceiling, turns over, and closes her eyes.

The next morning, Death leads her to another town, and Bo slows down when she notices the overflowing garbage cans and the stench of rotting food and animal carcasses in the alley. She takes smaller and smaller steps, fearing the worst, until she’s a few good steps behind Death.

“Hey.”

Death nods towards a rundown loft. Bo catches up to the other woman, who points at a window. Instead of taking a peek, the succubus turns around and leans on the building instead.

Before she gets to reason number 27 of why her ex-best friend, or the new-new-new-new-new Kenzi, would be at a place like this, she feels a cool hand on hers. She looks at Death, and the other woman gives her a reassuring nod, gesturing for her to take a look.

Bo inhales deeply – rotting stench and all – and turns.

None of her hypothesized reasons hold true, and she has never felt so relieved to be so, _so_ wrong. She gazes at the back of a lithe, short girl painting, and is mesmerized by how the girl practically dances as she moves around a canvas three times her size.

She looks around the loft and sees similar paintings – some with bold colors, some of a gothic theme, and some smaller ones of the artist herself with different people. Judging by the number of the portraits, the latest ‘version’ of Kenzi seems to have quite a few friends.

“Bo.”

The succubus looks away from the loft in shock. Death’s never called her by her name before.

“You’re crying,” the other woman says, her eyebrows furrowed.

 _Way to state the obvious_ , _woman._ Then again, Death probably can’t tell if this is a good or a bad thing for her. For all Death knows, she could be disappointed that this Kenzi isn’t a brain surgeon or some big time CEO, Bo muses. Wiping the tears from her face, the succubus nods happily at her companion. Death returns her smile – surprising the succubus again – and walks away.

Bo continues to watch ‘Kenzi’ paint, only stopping when the girl gets a call and heads up the stairs. The succubus realizes that it’s close to sunset, and looks around for Death. She smiles when she finds her at a corner, chatting on and off with a homeless man sitting beside her.

 _Probably talking about the weather_ – one of Death’s two or three topics.

She walks up to them and indicates that she’s ready to go. As Death gets up and says goodbye to the man, Bo hands him some cash and tells him to get a good meal.

“Looks like he has enough for nice dinners for a week going to have quite a nice dinner tonight, and might have some money left for the rest of the week, too,” Death says as they walk away.

Bo grins and shrugs. She’s long learned not to dwell on family or friends who are long gone, but still has dreams – good and bad ones – about them on occasion. But thanks to the woman beside her, her nightmares of Kenzi living a sad, restricted life has come to an end.

“Hey, I have an idea,” Bo says, almost clapping her hands in excitement.   

Death tilts her head at the succubus.

“Why don’t we have a good dinner too, and stay at a nice place tonight? My treat.”

Her companion acquiesces, amused, and Bo starts to look up places.

* * *

“Wow, look at you,” Bo remarks as they leave the hotel.  

Death looks at her attire and replies, “What? It’s a perfectly good hood.”  

“Yes, one that you wear all the time,” the succubus says. “I just thought you have something reserved for special occasions – speaking of which, how are people not weirded out by your appearance?”

Bo’s always known that there’s some concealing magic, but she’s wondered about the details. Seeing that the other woman is still in a mood to indulge her, tonight might be a good time to satisfy her curiosity about everything Death. Well, almost everything, anyway.

“Some creatures see me as I am – banshees, hellhounds, basilisks, Mongolian death worms, valkyries, and,” Death gestures at Bo, “incubi and succubi.”   

“Those that are connected to death,” Bo says. Death nods, and the succubus follows up with another question: “What about the others then?”

“It depends on the occasion – those who are near death might see me as a dead loved one, or their worst nightmare,” Death explains. “Apart from these, I mostly appear as a generic woman.”

“Okay. Just so you know, it’s a fancy restaurant, so it’s best if the waiter doesn’t see a sexy, well dressed lady with one who’s wearing a tank top, shorts and flip flops.”

Death rolls her eyes. “The purpose of creating the illusion is to deflect attention, not attract it. Dressing like that in this setting would only bring us more stares.”

“So you’re dressed as…” Bo’s not letting this go without a glimpse.

“How about you see it, then judge?” the other woman replies, and Bo does a hundred cartwheels inside. She watches in anticipation as Lauren dons her glamor, and…

“Hello?” Death asks, waving her hand in Bo’s face. “Are you okay?”

“I…” For the first time that she’s known Death, the succubus is lost for words.

Death pats Bo for signs of life. “It’s been awhile since I did this trick, but it should have worked…” she mutters as she does a rundown.

“Hey!” Bo yelps when Death accidentally touches a sensitive spot. “I’m good, I’m good.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am,” she reassures Death. “I just…your hair, your dress, you look…” Unable to stick to one or two description, she simply gestures at Death in admiration.  

“Oh,” Death says. “Thanks.”

The couple share an awkward pause until they notice someone staring at them. “Uhm, shall we?” Bo asks, extending her hand to her companion.

“Sure.” When Death blushes, the succubus manages to narrow down her choice of words for the other woman.

_Beautiful. You’re beautiful._

xxx

“Who would have thought you’d have impeccable table manners?” Bo’s marvels at how Death handles her cutlery and wine glass.

“Hey,” Death says, offended. “Don’t make me throw a crouton at you.”

“I’m sorry,” They’ve each had a few glasses, and the succubus has long discarded her brain-to-mouth filter. “This is the first time I’ve seen you eat, and it’s completely different from what I had in mind.”

“And what would that be?”

“Well, from the way we live, I always imagine you owning a dingy apartment that’s filled with empty boxes of pizza and cartons of milk,” Bo replies. “And now I see you in a mansion, dining on caviar and fine wine. I’m almost traumatized by the contrast.”

“Thanks, I think.” Death dabs the sides of her mouth with a napkin. “As you probably know, I don’t have a habit of eating. So I’ve forgotten what pizza and beer taste like, much less the rest.

“And from what I noticed, you don’t do a lot of eating as well. I mean human food.”

“Touché, reaper,” Bo says. Since they traveled together, the succubus has been feeding more discreetly and tried not to kill anyone. But as far as she can tell, Death’s never bothered by how she survives, and she’s never asked any questions when Bo disappears for a night or two.

“But you’re enjoying this?” Bo waves her fork around the table, stopping when Lauren gives her an admonishing look.

“Of course – everything’s lovely, Bo,” Lauren says as the waiter clears their plates. “Thank you.”

“Wait till you try dessert.” Bo grins and rubs her hands together in anticipation. It’s been a long time since she’s dined this well, and she can’t wait to taste the dish that she’s missed the most. “Ooh, here they come!”

She lifts her spoon and waits for Death to do the same, but the other woman’s looking at hers still. “I’ve never had one of these before – it smells great.”

The succubus almost drops her spoon in surprise. “You’ve never had a soufflé before? How? Were you born dead?”

Death frowns at her, and Bo apologizes for the comment. “You’ll be glad you’re immortal once you try it. And I’ll make it up to you by treating you to as many as you like after this.”

Unaware that she’s still holding her spoon, the succubus watches Death digs hers into the dark chocolate and takes a bite. Bo’s smile widens when her companion closes her eyes.

“It’s wonderful,” Death says. “You’re right – I can’t believe I’ve never had this.”

The succubus looks like a pirate who’s found a cave full of treasure. “Yeah? Wait till you try the cheese.” Having long since forgotten about her own cravings, she offers the other woman the first bite from her spoon.

The soft noise that Death makes causes her to blush and fidget in her seat. When her companion whispers her name, she thanks the stars that she’s the only one in the room who can read sexual energy. 

“Hey, you should have some of mine, too,” Death says. Bo’s nostrils flare as she waits for the other woman to feed her. Unfortunately for her, Death simply pushes her ramekin to the middle of the table, and Bo feels the tension escaping from her like air leaking from a balloon.

“And if you don’t mind,” Death says cheekily and pulls Bo’s dessert to the middle, “I shall have more of yours, too.”

Watching Death tuck into her dessert with gusto, Bo shakes her head, chuckles and joins her companion.

* * *

“I had a great time,” Death says, plopping down on the king size bed. “Thanks for everything, Bo.”

“What do you mean “had”? The night’s not over yet, woman,” Bo replies, and before Death responds, the succubus holds up a finger and picks up the phone. “Hi, can I have champagne and ice cream delivered to the room, please? Great, thanks.”

“Wait, you’re ordering more wine? Haven’t we drunk enough?” From the rosy color of Death’s cheeks, and the way Bo’s slurring her words, they’re pushing their limits. But it’s a special occasion, and she tells Death as such.

“Also, I bet you’ve never had champagne before,” she adds.

“Have too,” Death retorts, “once, when I was sixteen, at some grand party that my parents held.”

“Your parents?” Bo asks. Death nods, and someone knocks on their door right then. Bo curses silently and moves to open it. Keen to return to their conversation, she doesn’t bother with cash and gives the attendant an extra strong pulse instead.

Death is sitting up, paying particular attention to their bedspread when Bo pushes the tray into the room, and the succubus decides to save the chat for another time.

“But I bet you’ve never had it this way.” She pretends to be oblivious and pops the cork. Nudging Death to pour it, she opens the quart of ice cream and scoops it into her flute.  

“Are you making…a float?” Death looks at hers curiously.

“Yep,” Bo responds as she scoops out more ice cream messily. “This,” she says as she licks her fingers, “is how we used to celebrate.”  

“It’s…funny,” Death says. “It’s tart and sweet at the same time.”

"Mmm, this is definitely top shelf stuff,” Bo remarks. “Kenzi and I couldn’t afford good liquor – or anything – most times, so we saved this for super special occasions – or super sad ones.”

“And today certainly calls for it, thanks to you,” Bo lifts her glass to Death and adds a toast to her best friend in silence.

“Please,” Death says. “It was nothing. I’m guessing she was your companion from…?’

“She was,” Bo leans on the headboard and stares away. “I was adopted by humans, and didn’t know that I was fae until my late twenties. But my needs manifested way before that and I was on the run for a decade, feeling like a monster all the time.”

Death joins her on the bed, intrigued.

“I was bartending one time when this girl walks in and steals wallets left, right and center. She also drank a drink that was drugged by some rapist.”

“And you saved her,” Death says.

Bo nods. “You should have seen her. She saw what I did, and never even flinched. That was her – fearless.

“Anyway, the rapist’s death led the fae to me, and I went back and forth between that world and the human’s. But no matter where I went, and how I behaved, she stayed with me until…”

Tears flow from her eyes for the second time that day, and she feels Death’s hand on top of hers. “I’m sorry for your loss,” Death says. “It seems that you had a great friendship.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s the price we pay for having really long lives, huh?” Bo sniffs and smiles. “Thank you for what you did – it meant a lot to me.”

“Bo,” Death asks softly, “you know you can’t speak to her, right?”

“I do,” Bo replies. “Trust me, whenever we visit your loved ones in the future, I’ll know exactly how you feel.”

“Actually, I don’t know them,” Death says.

“Huh?” Bo turns to look at Death, who’s lowered her head.

Death reaches for the bottle and refills their flutes. Bo holds out hers and waits patiently.  

“About seven hundred years ago, there was a pair of siblings who were very close,” Death recounts. “The brother and sister were young and trying to save the world. Or they thought they could.

“The sister made the explosives and the brother would place them in pipelines. She trusted her brother, and thought she was doing great work, but one day...”

Bo braces herself and links her fingers with the other woman’s.  

“Eleven people were killed, the brother was nowhere to be found, and the girl ran,” Death continues. “She didn’t stop until she ended up in Congo a year later, where the locals told her about this shaman.

“Long story short, the shaman brought her to meet someone from another world, and they made a deal – eleven centuries of servitude to revive the eleven lives.”

Death laughs, surprising Bo, and adds, “The punishment was pretty apt – she took lives, so they made her Death. They were kind enough to grant her one favor, though – she wanted to stop the Feds and the Interpol from investigating her family, so they spread the word that she’d died.

“She was twenty. And she was always remembered for what she did. Since then…”

Bo feels her companion’s fingers tremble, and she tightens hers around them.

“Nobody was supposed to be there,” Death whispers. “I trusted him, and nobody was supposed to be there.”

Death repeats the sentences endlessly, and the succubus tosses away her glass and moves to face the other woman.

“Hey,” Bo says. Death looks away, tears still streaming down her face. The succubus cradles her face and tilts her head gently to face hers.

“You’re crying,” she whispers, and Death’s sobs turn louder. She holds the once again scared, regretful, and lonely girl tightly and starts to kiss away her tears.


	14. Mythical creature (Lauren Lewis is Death) Part III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last part of this universe - hope you enjoyed it! Feel free to drop me a note and let me know what you think :)

"Mm, Dyson…"

Once again, she's drunk too much with the gang. Her head's pounding, and Dyson's fur tickling her face is making it worse. She raises her hand to brush them off, but finds her fingers surrounded by smooth and silky strands instead.

What?

The succubus musters her strength to open one eye, and sees –

_Gold. I'm buried in glorious gold._

She pushes herself up and realizes that she's far, far away from her days with Kenzi and the fae. Death remains asleep, undisturbed by all the movements. Bo watches her breathe – deep and slow – and thinks about how wrong she was about their similarities.

She plants a tender kiss on Death's cheek, falls back on their bed and stares at the ceiling. Death's story runs through her mind as she drifts away.

The next time she opens her eyes, they're staring right at her companion, who's also shaking her arm lightly.

"Hey," Death greets her, her voice a little hoarse.

"Hey – morning," Bo says. "What a night, huh?"

Death makes a non-committal sound. "I've ordered coffee – you should have some. We have a long day ahead."

Bo sits up and rubs her eyes, noticing that Death is dressed – once again – in her cloak and hood. Unsure of how she's supposed to act, the succubus reaches for her coffee and sips it while she gauges Death's mood.

"Hey," Bo calls out, and Death looks up. "You okay?"

Death nods with a weak smile. "Thank you."

 _At least she's looking at me._  "That's good," Bo whispers, and they stare at each other for a second.

"I'm done." The succubus places her cup back on the tray and stands up. "Ready?"

"So how's the weather today?" They head out, leaving the traces of the previous day in the room.

xxx

"Oh my god, how many days has it been?" Bo rubs her forehead and lifts herself up on a window ledge. They've crossed so many towns – and time zones – that she doesn't know where they are anymore. She only notices that it's always daylight, and it's thrown her body clock out of whack.

This shift also had more stubborn souls trying to escape, and the succubus did not appreciate chasing them through smelly manholes or strangers' backyards filled with angry dogs.

"That's the last one," Death says, looking at her list. She crosses off the name with her pencil and slaps the notepad shut. "I think we're caught up now." She lets out a breath and leans on the wall beside Bo. "Thanks for your help."

"No problemo," the succubus says, swinging her legs. "Although you may have to splurge for a nice room this time – I'm not sure if my back can accept a crummy bed after this shift."

"Oh, of course," Death says. "Anything else I can do for you?"

"Lobster dinner? Back rub?" Bo asks. She would have laughed at Death's expression if things haven't been awkward between them – Death hasn't been as closed off as she was in their early days together, but the succubus knows her companion enough by now to tread softly.

"Hey, I'm kidding," Bo nudges her lightly. "You sure you're okay?"

"I am," Death says. "I'm not used to…"

Bo gives Death her full attention, grabbing the opportunity to discuss their night together.

"Well…this." Death waves her hand. "Sharing who I was before…what I did. I could barely tell people before I became Death, and there wasn't any need after then, y'know?"

"Oh," Bo says. "For what it's worth, I –"

_Is…is that…a cockroach?_

In a hurry to get away from the pest, the succubus shifts backward, forgetting that she's on a window ledge on the 17th floor. She feels herself slipping off the ledge, her hands grasping at air.

"Bo!" Death reaches out to grab her, and the next thing she knows, they're standing by the window, nose to nose.

"That was close," Bo says, her breaths quick and harsh.

"It was," Death replies, her face flushed. "What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't!" Bo says. "You obviously didn't see that cockroach – it was half the size of my shoe!

"Anyway, won't you know that it's not my time yet?"

"You should know by now that it doesn't work that way," Death says and bends forward, huffing. "It seems you have a lot more to learn."

When the succubus doesn't respond, Death looks up and sees Bo looking at her. "Bo? You okay?"

"I do," Bo says.

"You do what?" Death asks.

"I do have a lot more to learn – about you – if you give me a chance to." Before Death interrupts her, she continues, "What you told me the other night – it gave me a glimpse of you, before you became…

"And it makes me want to know more about what's under that hood. How is it that you drank champagne at only 16, but have never had a float. Or how you handle your cutlery like it's second nature, even though I have a feeling that you've ever eaten human food for centuries."

"I," Death says, "are you mocking me?"

"Oh god, that's not what I meant," Bo says. "What I'm saying is…wait, what's your name?"

"Lauren," Death says, keeping a suspicious eye on the succubus still. "Lauren Lewis."

"Lauren Lewis," Bo says, taking the time to savor the three syllables. "Lauren," she adds softly, "what I meant is I'd love to learn more about you and to do those things with you.

"So would you go out with me? We can take it slow, but just a warning – I may be way ahead of you here."

The succubus sweats it out for almost a minute, until she sees Lauren nod to herself.

"Is that what you really think of me?" Death asks.

"Yes." Bo smiles. "And you? What do you…?"

"I can't believe you screamed." Lauren breaks into a grin.

* * *

For someone who's a few centuries old, she's lived a pretty full life. She's joined orgies organized by Bacchus, been to Valhalla several times, and even helped start – and end – a fae war. All in all, she's done well – or that's what she thought, until she met Lauren.

She thinks if she paid more attention in biology class or to that Light Fae doctor, Boston harpy, she might be able to explain some of her feelings.

She'd know why, despite her vast experience, her hand feels clammy when it holds Lauren's – a name she's since said to herself silently, over and over. Or why she watches her girlfriend's expression keenly when they catch up on movies that Death's missed.

In those moments, she's struck by the beauty of a sunset through Lauren's mesmerized expression. She feels the cold of the ice-cream in winter when Death shivers, and when she hands Lauren a bouquet, she's taken to a field of flowers when Lauren closes her eyes to take in the scent.

The succubus hasn't figured out the scientific basis of her reactions, but for now, she's happy to enjoy the simple things that she'd forgotten – long ago – could make her feel so good.

"Hey, I haven't seen these for a while," Bo says.

"A woodpecker?" Lauren says. The two of them are sitting on a branch of a huge tree, one rumored to be as old as Death herself. "I thought you'd be quite familiar with it."

"Why?" The succubus half expects her girlfriend to tell her they share similar genes once upon a time.

"Didn't you do that when we first met?" Death says, smirking as she nods towards the bird. Bo turns to see it pecking a hole into a tree trunk.

"Why you…" Bo mutters. "That's not fair. I didn't know who you were then."

"And now?" Lauren asks distractedly, her attention on a cub that's making its way home.

"And now," the succubus says, turning Lauren to face her, "now that I know you better, I'd say I have a better chance of succeeding this time." She moves forward and closes her eyes.

Their lips touch.

And after that encounter, they touch again and again – lightly, like sweet summer kisses at first, then a bit more pressure, and each time a little longer than the previous one.

And one day, Bo's seem to develop a mind of their own – they go on a detour, venturing away from the other set of lips and stopping at random places. Misbehaving teeth sneak out to give Lauren's chin and jaw a playful nip, and the succubus makes sure to sooth the spots with her tongue.

The lips continue their journey, marking the trail with reverence, looking for hidden spots at the nape of Lauren's neck. When Lauren calls out for Bo in a way she never did, Bo returns the greeting, alternating between breathing her girlfriend's name into her ear and tugging her earlobes gently.

Only stopping when fingers clutch at her arm, the succubus moves on to her girlfriend's neck, nuzzling, nibbling and licking. She pulls Lauren closer to her, running her hands along her body and doubling her ministration, like someone possessed.

"Bo," Lauren says. The succubus seems to be suffering from temporary deafness and doesn't respond, focusing on scraping her teeth lightly along her girlfriend's collarbones.

When she's had her fill, her lips move lower and she pulls at the belt of Lauren's cloak. When it doesn't relent, she tugs and tugs impatiently, until –

"Bo!"

She stops and looks up this time. Lauren, her breaths harsh and cheeks flushed, stares at her, concerned. "Where did you go?" Death asks.

That works as well as a splash of water, and the succubus cups her girlfriend's face, her kisses more subdued and better behaved this time. "I'm sorry," she whispers and mutters between nuzzles, "I'm here".

"It's okay," Lauren says, taking Bo's hand and placing them on the knot of her belt. "You have to pull here…"

"Wait," Bo says. At her girlfriend's confused look, she asks, "Are you sure?"

Lauren smiles and nods, but Bo is still uncertain. Ignoring the screams of her inner succubus, calling her an idiot, she grasps Lauren's hands and repeats the question. "And…have you done this before?"

"Not this way," Lauren whispers. "But I trust you."

And later that night, while she caresses Lauren's shoulder in post-coital bliss, she tells Lauren that, like her now-lover, she hadn't done it that way before too. She can't remember the last time she took that long to fall into bed with someone, especially with someone whom she didn't pulse.

The succubus had gotten lazy after Dyson and a few lovers, and had constantly chosen the easy way of seduction and relied on her pulses to finish the job.

"So if your pulses had worked on me, you wouldn't have had to work as hard?" Lauren teases her.

"W-ell," Bo drawls, "the jaded, short sighted me would have, but the me now wouldn't trade it for anything."

For instead of feeling that she's got it – like she always did – she worked for every moan from Lauren, and stopped at expressions of discomfort – no matter how slight – instead of pulsing her way through. Unlike her quick and easy romps in the past, the succubus took her time to explore, watch and experiment. And when she knew it was right, she charged at it until her lover cried out incoherently.

And for as long as she's known, it's the first time she's learned that someone could be so turned on and desperate for her touch – hers, not the succubus's.

Hers, she muses as she strokes Lauren's hair, soothing her to sleep.

Mine.

They stopped staying in dark and dingy motels since that night, opting for a little more comfort – and fun – on their trips. And in between work, they'd sneak into hidden catacombs and parts of the pyramids where humans haven't explored. Lauren would tell her some really good horror stories, prompting her need to hold Lauren tight that night, the night after, and the ones that follow. (She thinks she has lover fooled – she hasn't.)

They dance on empty moonlit streets, swaying to jazzy tunes that drift from nearby bars, camp out and re-learn their constellations, and stuff themselves with ten kinds of pizza and beer. Funny enough, despite having centuries over Bo's life, it was Lauren who throws up the next morning.

"Ugh," Lauren moans from her spot on the bathroom floor, her head on Bo's lap. "Why are you smiling?"

"Because," Bo replies with a grin, "you're adorable."

"How could you think that? You were right there – you saw all that," Lauren says, referring to when Bo held her hair.

"I'm sure you'll find a way to explain it when you get well," Bo says and kisses Lauren's nose lightly. "But you'll understand better when it's my turn to get sick."

And Lauren does get it – a week later.

"I'm sorry – I should have caught this earlier," she says, applying an ointment on Bo's arm. "I didn't know he slashed you that hard."

"He didn't," Bo says, trying to scratch the wound and receiving a smack on her hand from Lauren. "I could have sworn it was just a scratch."

"Well, whatever he did, it looks potent," Lauren says. "Have you been feeding properly?"

They've never addressed the succubus's feeding habits in detail, both knowing since they met that Death does not contain any chi. So when it comes to replenishing her energy, Bo maintains status quo, only without the sex, and Lauren leaves her to do whatever she has to.

Bo nods.

"Okay," Lauren says. "The fae antiseptic should work – you should heal in a day or two."

"I'm sure I will," Bo says, her mind – and hands – already moving on to more important things. "But before I do, how about some non-medicated treatment for this wounded patient?"

"Bo!"

xxx

Thanks for the tender loving care of Lauren, even though her lover argues that it's the fae antiseptic, her wound healed smoothly. However, a few months later, the succubus finds herself stuck in bed after a trip to Antarctica.

"This is all your fault," she says. "And now you have to go to work alone."

"Me?" Lauren says, tucking Bo in and fretting over her. "I told you not to do that!"

"And how was that a proportionate response? Who pushes someone into an icy lake for tickling them?"

"Me, apparently!" Lauren says. "And for a big, strong fae who insists on carrying me to bed, I thought you were made of stronger stuff."

"I am." Bo says. "I haven't been sick from trivial things like these since I was, what, 18?"

"That long?"

Bo nods and a cough follows.

Lauren pauses.

Without responding to Bo, she walks into the bathroom and emerges moments later. She sits beside the succubus and wipes her forehead with a cool cloth.

"Bo." Her tone quiet and calm. "I'm going to leave for several days, okay?"

"What?" Bo whines. "But I'm sick!"

"I know." Lauren continues in the same tone. "I just have a hypothesis that I need to test."

"It's not the pyramid," Bo says. "We already tried that."

"I know," Lauren repeats softly. "Just rest, okay? I'll be back before you know it."

"How will I reach you? And what if I get worse?"

"I'll feel it," Lauren says.  _And if my hypothesis is right, you won't._

And once again, her lover is right. After Lauren's departure, followed by a deep sleep, the succubus's fever breaks in a few days. By day four, she's back on her feet, looking for chi and wandering the streets.

She's arranging the flowers when the door opens. "Honey, you're home," she teases.

"Hmm, I guess I am," Lauren says.

"Look at me, all shiny and healed," Bo says in a sing-song tone and twirls.

Lauren simply nods a few times.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Bo steps closer to her lover. "You look like you're about to laugh…or cry. Or both."

"It's nothing," Lauren says, shaking her head. "I'm just tired, is all."

"Well, I happen to know the exact remedy for that," Bo says, leading her to the bathroom and grabbing the basket of rose petals along the way.

Hours and a few good backrubs later, she finally feels her lover relaxing into her.

"This is nice," Lauren says, her head on Bo's shoulder, "thank you."

"My pleasure," Bo says. "We should get out soon, though. I have something planned for later and I'm not sure being wrinkly and pruned fits into it."

"Hmm," Lauren says, her eyes still closed. "Do you want to?"

"No. I wish we could lie here forever."

"Really?" At this, Lauren shifts upwards and asks, "Forever? Even if we end up killing each other somewhere down the road?"

"Yes, even then," Bo says. "Besides, you should know by now that it's impossible," she adds, pecking Lauren's shoulder softly. "You make me want to live."

Lauren responds with a kiss on Bo's lips.

xxx

It ended with a sneeze.

It happened sometime later, somewhere down the road. "Phew, I hope I don't have another fever coming," Bo says, wiping her nose.

"It's probably nothing, right?" She glances at Lauren, who had been extra careful with their missions since she was bedridden, hoping to reassure her lover.

"Lauren?" Her lover seems to be watching her intently with an unreadable expression. It's similar to the one Death had in their earlier days together, but this time, Bo feels a chill running through her.

"Hey." The succubus waves. "Earth to my lover?"

"Yes," Lauren finally replies. "It's going to be nothing."

And nothing is what Bo feels when she reaches for Lauren in bed the next morning.

"Lauren?" She rubbing her eyes and trudging through the suite. All she finds, however, is a note.

_Thank you for everything._

_Don't look for me. You need to trust me – I know what I'm doing._

_I love you._

The front desk staff of the hotel is kept busy that day, as guests from a few floors above and below their room ring to complain about some "non-stop yelling". And when they send someone to check the source, all the security could find is an empty room that looks like it's been hit by a tornado.

If someone carried out a research on Bo the succubus's 'type', they'd find a time when she veered towards people in transportation – pilots, drivers, tour guides, even those who rent out camels. And if they also mapped out her journey throughout that period, they'd marvel at the frequency and distance of her travels – it was possibly the most extensive trip in her lifetime.

"You know who I am?" She asks the man who's reaching for her, the blood on his face rendering him unrecognizable.

"Help me," the soldier spluttered, "it hurts."

The succubus watches him in silence for seconds, wondering why she should alleviate someone's pain when she's drowning in it. She sighs when the man pleads again, and lowers her mouth to his.

After the deed, she closes his eyes as a last gesture of mercy, wraps her arms around her knees, and stares into the distance.

But Death never comes. Just like she never came after mass feedings, or even when she breathed a few dozen people back into life. The succubus hangs on for as long as she can, in crime scenes, war zones, explosions, accidents, only leaving when the police or EMTs approached. Or when the corpses start to fall apart, their stench causing her to puke.

On the same streets where they used to dance, she now screams for Lauren.

"I know you can hear me!"

"At least tell me what happened!"

She grabs whatever she can in her hectic journey, leading to an erratic feeding habit and a drop in 'quality' food. These factors weaken her hunting skills in turn, resulting in one prey escaping after they shove her to the ground.

She curses from the pain and lifts her hand to see it penetrated by glass shards.

"SHI-IT!" She thumps her limb on the ground, but instead of feeling more pain, she feels – nothing. The succubus has somehow regained her self-healing powers, and she watches, surprised, as the wound seals itself.

_Huh. Haven't healed this quick since I…_

She then realizes that despite her stress, lack of rest and the constant drop in the quality of her prey, she'd never been sick since then.

_You need to trust me – I know what I'm doing._

It hits her, and the succubus laughs – and cries – hysterically in the dirty alley, unseen and unheard.

She knows now that Death will never show herself, no matter what she does. And in her craziest moments, Bo contemplates going on a feeding spree in the city, regardless of her prey's innocence.

And if she were raised differently, by the fae who view humans as nothing more than food, she would have done that. But since she wasn't, she tells herself that there is no way she could harm innocents just to…

The solution dawns on her.

What the hell, right?

In fewer than 24 hours, after she drops off a letter to this-world's-Kenzi with the details of her assets, the succubus carries out her plan and closes her eyes.

She smiles as soon as she hears the familiar footsteps. "I knew you couldn't resist me in this state".

Death doesn't acknowledge her wisecrack and focuses on checking her pulse and wounds instead.

"Hey," Bo croaks, "you're thinner." She lifts a hand to cup Lauren's face, and is glad that Death doesn't reject it. "You back to old habits?"

Her ex-lover says nothing still, simply crouching in front of her and enjoying her touch.

"Lauren, listen – I never wanted to -"

"Shh, don't say anything. Save your strength." Lauren leans forward, and Bo relishes the feeling of those cool lips on hers again.

As Death stands up and starts walking, the succubus protests, half-delirious. "Hey, these are my last moments – I chose you, and you walk away?

"You won't be seeing me again, y'know."

For the first time since she left her, Lauren meets her eyes. "We will."

* * *

It's the best feeling in the world; it's the worst feeling in the world.

She's been in this spot for more times than she can remember. Even when barely conscious, she can see the broken glass and blood, hear the pitter patter of rat feet as the vermin run across her feet, and of course – make out the stench of death.

But this time, things are going to end differently – she knows it. With half closed eyes, she watches the familiar figure hover around, and as soon as they walk by, she musters all her strength – and grabs.

The figure turns to look at her, a little surprised that she can move. Holding their arm in a firm grip, she croaks in a voice she barely recognizes: "Take me too".

They sigh – she senses it's out of grief more than anything else, and hesitates. They shake her hand off gently, saying, "It's not your time yet, succubus".

The voice – she swears she's heard it before – wakes her from her stupor, and she sits up.

"Wait! You know what I am?"

The other woman stops at the end of the alley, but doesn't look at her. "I've seen you enough times."

"Then you know that nobody tells me no," she growls, her eyes turning blue as she gets up and walks towards her, "ever".

At this, Death holds up a hand, and an unseen force stops the succubus in her tracks. "We're done here."

"Oh yeah?" the succubus says, infuriated. "You think you have the power to stop me? I'll just wait for the next Death to take your place."

"There is no 'next' Death – it's a permanent position," the woman replies.

"That's not true – I know my fae 411! When did it change?"

"An hour ago – you were busy with something else. Now go live your life, succubus."

Bo charges at Death as soon as she moves on, but falls to the ground as the woman evades her in a simple move.

"Ah come on!" the succubus yells. "Everybody's gone – have a heart!"

"I don't," Death says, facing the other way, still. "Someone stole it."

"Well, tell me who the thief is, and my last mission will be to retrieve it. Hell, maybe I can even die trying."

"I'll never ask for it back."

_Well sh-_

"And Bo?"

_She knows my name?_

"You'll never be alone."

The succubus looks at Death, confused. And just before the woman goes around the corner –

"Lauren?" Bo yells.

Death turns around, the sudden motion causing her hood to slip, spilling blond tresses on to her shoulders.

" _Bo?_ "

The spell breaks.


End file.
